Happiness is so rarely a part of my vocabulary, because for me it's so fleeting

Love weaves itself from hundreds of threads.

The minute I knew I was in love was the minute when there was no question about it.

Even if neither of us got what we wanted, we found freedom in the third choices.

There is no word for our kind of friendship. Two people who don't see each other a lot, but can make each other effortlessly happy

Because that's the thing about mean people: They make you think that the world will never work, that there are divides that you will fall into if you approach. It takes a whole lot of good people to fill in the breach created by a single mean one.

Music is everywhere. It’s in the air between us, waiting to be sung.