He pressed himself into me and kissed my neck, and it was as if everything strong and solid inside me, heart and bones and muscle and gut, softened and melted from the heat of him.

Stop yelling. If everyone’s yelling, no one can be heard.

Hope is the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard.

But words are more powerful than anything.

Life’s all about the revolution, isn’t it? The one inside, I mean. You can’t change history. You can’t change the world. All you can ever change is yourself.

Never take what's offered, always ask for more.

But his words fall away. He looks confused. He looks flustered and sorry. Like you do when you run up to someone you think you know and take her arm and she turns around and you were wrong.