I know that all the magic kisses in the world probably couldn't have helped him today. But I would do anything to have been able to give him one.

It's just accidental, just temporary. Until the next accident sends me somewhere new. That's how life works.

Dear Willem: I’ve been trying to forget about you and our day in Paris for nine months now, but as you can see, it’s not going all that well. I guess more than anything, I want to know, did you just leave? If you did, it’s okay. I mean it’s not, but if I can know the truth, I can get over it. And if you didn’t leave, I don’t know what to say. Except I’m sorry that I did. I don’t know what your response will be at getting this letter, like a ghost from your past. But no matter what happened, I hope you’re okay.

In the middle of L.A.'s sunny non-winter, I need to sit in a dark closet to feel right.

You talked to me, but you didn’t. I could see you having these two-sided conversations. The things you wanted to say to me. And the words that actually came out.

Losing me will hurt; it will be the kind of pain that won't feel real at first, and when it does, it will take her breath away.

(P)eople’s good intentions can wind up putting us in boxes as confining as coffins.