If you tell me, I will leave you alone," I said. "And if you don't tell me, I am going to grab the nearest ghostwritten James Patterson romance novel and I am going to follow you through this store reading it out loud until you relent. Would you prefer me to read from Daphne's Three Tender Months with Harold or Cindy and John's House of Everlasting Love? I guarantee, your sanity and your indie street cred won't last a chapter. And they are very, very short chapters." Now I could see the fright beneath the defiance.

Here’s what I know about the realm of possibility— it is always expanding, it is never what you think it is. Everything around us was once deemed impossible. From the airplane overhead to the phones in our pockets to the choir girl putting her arm around the metalhead. As hard as it is for us to see sometimes, we all exist within the realm of possibility. Most of the limits are of our own world’s devising. And yet, every day we each do so many things that were once impossible to us.

This is what my voice sounds like I don't need to be talking to someone else To hear it

I would always wait to take you home.

When I am with you, there is nowhere else I'd rather be. And I am a person who always wants to be somewhere else.

Hello, my name is ees Lebkuchen Spice, and I vant to show you my coooooookies.

You know, I'd get a tattoo with your name on it. Only, I want you to have the freedom to change your name if you want to.