I just needed to realize that style was like personality - it didn't always have to be consistent; it just had to be something you lived with.

Eventually she fell asleep, but I kept the phone against my ear, lulled by her breathing, and her breathing again in the background. And yes, it felt like home. Like everything belonged exactly where it was.

For whatever reason, we like to focus on the 2 percent that's different, and most of the conflict in the world comes from that.

Are you going to be playing for the pure thrill of unreluctant desire?

We just want to walk. Our legs need to move to keep our minds from collapsing.

But isn't this a dance? Isn't all of this a dance? Isn't that what we do with words? Isn't that what we do when we talk, when we spar, when we make plans or leave it to chance? Some of it's choreographed. Some of the steps have been done for ages. And the rest -- the rest is spontaneous. The rest has to be decided on the floor, in the moment, before the music ends.

me: you know what sucks about love? o.w.g.: what? me: that it's so tied to the truth.