The truth feels different from other things. The closest you can come to describing it is that it feels like taking a perfect breath.

All I get is tomorrow.

i have never had anybody talk to me like this. this is not a flirty sixth-grade phone call or bantering with friends or words passed in a note. i feel that if my soul could talk it would talk like this.

Maybe relationships could have fractals, too. And maybe the sense of loss was when you're becoming a fractal of what you once were to each other.

His books are kept on freestanding shelves hung at different angles on a sea-green wall. They defy gravity, as good books should.

Fate has a strange way of making plans.

I have always been aware of how I break. I know what kind of situations will break me. I know what kind of people will do it. I know how much it will hurt.