And in high school, people are always watching so there's always a reason to pose.

And it feels strange, almost sad, to walk through ther empty halls. Each step I take sounds so lonely.

One little ripple started today could create a typhoon fifteen years from now.

I wanted to tell you everything. And that hurt because some things were too scary. Some things even I didn’t understand. How could I tell someone—someone I was really talking to for the first time—everything I was thinking? I couldn’t. It was too soon.

I'm listening to someone give up. Someone I knew—someone I liked. I'm listening... but still, I'm too late.

I've always loved brainstorming with other writers, and I consider having my work critiqued a part of that brainstorming.

The main thing I wanted to say, and thankfully it’s what most people say they get out of the book, is simply an acknowledgement that we do affect each other in ways we can’t predict.