When people fall in love, they burst into flames.

I heard this expression once: Each time someone dies, a library burns. I'm watching it burn right to the ground.

He's bent over the strings tuning his guitar with such passionate attention I almost feel I should look away but I can't. In fact I'm full on gawking wondering what it would be like to be cool and casual and fearless and passionate and so freaking alive just like he is- and for a split second I want to play with him. I want to disturb the birds. Later as he plays and plays as all the fog burns away I think he's right. That's exactly it- I am crazy sad and somewhere deep inside all I want is to fly.

Dreams change, yes, that makes sense, but I didn't know dreams could hide inside a person.

The first thing I notice is the sky, so full of blue and the kind of brilliant white clouds that make you ecstatic to have eyes. Nothing can go wrong under this sky.

For the first time in our lives, I’m somewhere she can’t find, and I don’t have the map to give her that leads to me.

If bad luck knows who you are, become someone else.