It was a nice day, and I don't mean that it was sunny either. It was humid and not too cool, like winter was getting annoyed with itself and wanted it to be spring just as much as everyone else.

Sometimes things seem so unbearable in the middle of the night, don't they? In the middle of the night, we're all such children.

Maybe if I'd been braver in that moment, I would have cried.

The theme of the dance was "Great Romances," or some such nonsense. There were projections of supposedly great couples from the past on the walls of the gym. Romeo and Juliet, Antony and Cleopatra, Hermione and Ron, Bonnie and Clyde, etc.

I know you did, lass. You're the toughest girl I know." "'Lass'? Where did that come from?" "I don't know. I just felt the urge to call you that.

I wondered if the person who really loves you is the person who knows all your stories, the person who WANTS to know all your stories.

Death is a state of mind---many people on Earth spend their entire lives dead.