I liked you, cop. From the moment I met you. No… not the first moment. I wanted to kill you when I first met you. But then I liked you. A lot.

Don't think I was the only reason he healed. You're his light, Marissa. Don't ever forget that.

The stories just keep showing up in my head - and I really hope they keep it up! I write what I'm told, and as long as I do that, I don't have any problems with writer's block or anything. The issues come only when I try to force the story or the people in it to do things they don't want to. As a control freak, it's funny that I've learned to be so comfortable with being out of control in what is arguably one of the most important areas of my life!

I feel as though I am shelved. That I have been given the words to the story of my life, but that I have remained largely unread.

When you were young, you thought time was a burden, something to be discharged as fast as possible so you could be grown-up. But it was such a bait-n-switch – when you were an adult, you came to realize that minutes and hours were the single most precious thing you had.

God, he was probably too young to be this old, but life had a way of being about experience, rather than calendar days.

A book unopened alters not the ink on it's pages