She's not like anyone I've ever seen before. When I'm not with her, I want to be. And when she opens the book and I see her face, I can barely remember what I'm supposed to say, much less how to speak at all." I test the words on my tongue. "I think I might be in love with her. But how can I really know, since the only love I've ever experienced was written for me?

when you [lose someone], it feels like the hole in your gum when a tooth falls out. You can chew, you can eat, you have plenty of other teeth, but your tongue keeps going back to that empty place, where all nerves are still a little raw

Justification is a remarkable thing-takes all those solid lines and blurs them, so that honor becomes as supple as a willow, and ethics burst like soap bubbles.

Things that break - be they bones, hearts, or promises - can be put back together but will never really be whole.

Memory is like plaster: peel it back and you just might find a completely different picture.

Maybe if God gives you a handicap, he makes sure you've got a few extra doses of humor to take the edge off.

I'd like to say that this time I'd kill myself too..but I've never had that kind of courage.