I went into the desert to forget about you. But the sand was the color of your hair. The desert sku was the color of your eyes. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't be you.

There is a small window of opportunity for freckled girls to tan.

The girls took into their own hands decisions better left to God. They became too powerful to live among us, too self-concerned, too visionary, too blind.

Regret, already sogging me down, burst its dam. It seeped into my legs, it pooled in my heart.

She wanted a book to take her places she couldn't get to herself.

I'm constantly having doubts and moments of depression and then excitement and then back into the slough of despond.

He remained heartbroken, which meant one of two things: either his love was pure and true and earthshakingly significant; or he was addicted to feeling forlorn, he liked being heartbroken.