Someone real," I hear myself saying. "Someone who never has to pretend, and who I never have to pretend around. Someone who's smart, but knows how to laugh at himself. Someone who would listen to a symphony and start to cry, because he understands music can be too big for words. Someone who knows me better than I know myself. Someone I want to talk to first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Someone I feel like I've known my whole life, even if I haven't.

She suddenly remembered studying the brain in science class- how a steel rod pierced a man's skull, and he opened his mouth to speak Portuguese, a language he'd never studied. Maybe it would be like this, now, for Josie. Maybe her native tongue, from here on in, would be a string of lies.

Believe me, Being gay is not a choice. Noone would choose to make life harder than it has to be.

This was the reason there was music, he realized. There were some feelings that didn't have words big enough to describe them.

Love was that way. You could not render it in black or white. It always came down to the strange, blended shades of grey.

Life was all about being in a certain place, at a certain time.

When the door opens, I realize that the only thing worse than waiting is the moment you realize a decision has been made.