Every two people cause and intersection. Every person alters the world.

I have no more idea now of who I am than I did before. But at least I know that. And I'm starting to figure out who I want to be.

I had made it somewhere special, and I'd gotten there all on my own. Nobody had given it to me. Nobody had told me to do it. I'd climbed and climbed and climbed, and this was my reward. To watch over the world, and to be alone with myself. That, I found, was what I needed.

I want to talk to you and be random with you and be ridiculous with you.

You're giving up. You're slipping into being miserable and if you are being miserable, then it's all about you again. But it's not all about you. Love doesn't work that way.

Some days are like this. And the only way to get through them is to remember that they are only one day, and that every day ends.

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.