Such a strange thing, to hold a six-year-old's hand. Especially a six-year-old you've only just met. A toddler will grab hold of your finger, and someone your own age will clasp on to your whole hand, but with six-year-olds it's something in between, this acknowledgment that they can't be the one to take hold, so you have to do all the holding, folding your hand around theirs, feeling so much bigger and responsible.

Life goes on is a redundancy. Life is defined by its going on.

only adj. thats the dilemma isn't it? when you're single, there's the sadness and joy of only me. And when you're paired, there's the sadness and joy of only you.

There has to be a moment at the beginning when you wonder whether you’re in love with the person or in love with the feeling of love itself.

How amazing it is that friendships can become so full that you can't imagine what your life was like before them.

Maybe language is kind, giving us these double meanings. Maybe it's trying to teach us a lesson, that we can always be two things at once.

We love and we feel and we try and we hope.