Our relationship felt like a Christmas gift that you hadn't asked for and weren't expecting to receive, but the minute you saw it, you knew it was perfect for you.

I can't give you the sunset, but I can give you the night.

Literature wasn't intended to be about perfect people, it was about flaws, very real and very deep human flaws.

I want you to know that you're the hottest biscuit this side of the gravy boat.

Life is like waiting in line at the grocery store. You wait, you slowly move forward, you pay the price, then you exit unsatisfied and broke.

I still wasn't convinced that tossing a shoe didn't mean you harbored an anger-management problem, but I did understand love now. How it wrapped around you and made you more aware of the prickles on your skin, the roots of your hair, the intensity of every touch and every inch of you. It was like life on hi-def. Everything was sharper.

Love, no matter how it's expressed, is still love. We all have flaws, and so our love will be flawed. But that doesn't diminish it.