Sometimes I think that love is one big fairy tale. I wonder if people who say they are in love, if – really – they’ve just talked themselves into it. They want it so badly, they kind of make it happen. They fake it until they start believing their own story. Maybe that’s just sour grapes or something. Maybe because it doesn’t happen to me, I don’t want to think it happens to anyone else.

When you love someone, its never over. You move on, because you have to but you take them with you in your heart

A storm was brewing. The wind has picked up and a mass of purple clouds was coming in from the West. It felt good to have my hair whipping around my head. I thought it might feel good to have hail beat down on me. Sometimes storms outside are the only relief for storms inside.

You've changed," he said. "You're-uh-" "Yes?" "Taller." "I hope so. I was ten the last time you saw me." "And your hair's really dark now-and short," he added.

What do you do with your anger when the person you're mad at goes off and dies? Bury it? Bury it inside you?

How would you feel about sharing your bed?" she asked. Tristan blinked. "Excuse me?" "He'd love to!" Gary said. Tristan shot him a look, "Good," said Ivy, failing to notice Gary's wink. "Ella can be a pillow hog, but all you have to do is roll over her.

I'm not supposed to date you, Jenny." "That's what you said before." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "I didn't think this was going to be a problem. I mean, I'm pretty good at not letting someone become important to me. I have to be if I want to make it to L.A." "I understand." He laughed. "How nice of you to understand, since you're the one making it a struggle for me! It would be so easy to make you important.