On, there are so many lives. How we wish we could live them concurrently instead of one by one by one. We could select the best pieces of each, stringing them together like a strand of pearls. But that's not how it works. A human life is a beautiful mess.

Covers matter. In my experience, a different cover can make you think you're reading an entirely different book.

A life isn't measured in hours and minutes. It's the quality, not the length.

Should have. Would have. Could have. Didn't.

...lies can sound awfully pretty when a girl is in love with the person telling them.

Sorry but nothing of much importance ever happened to me...I'm just a girl who forgot to look both ways before crossing the street.

But in my defense, I knew enough about her to know I wanted to know everything else; I knew as much about her as she wanted me to know; I knew as much about her as anyone ever knows about anyone. And isn't love just curiosity at the beginning anyway?