So I'm in love. That crazy, forget to eat, float around in a daze, talk on the phone all night and bounce out of bed every morning hoping to see him kind of love.

Time passes. That's the rule. No matter what happens, no matter how much it might feel like everything in your life has been frozen around one particular moment, time marches on.

I mean, what good is a women's lib if we can't use it to ask guys to dances?

We think of happiness as something we can take. But usually it comes from being content with what we have, and accepting ourselves.

The look that passes between Jeffrey and Kimber right then feels like it requires a swell of cheesy music in the background. Aw, I think. Baby brother's in love. I also find this kind of gross.

So often we only do what we think is expected of us, when we are capable of so much more.

Writers have superpowers.