There are some things, I think, you're btter off not remembering.

The thinnest slice would be teeming with memories of a love so strong it turned you inside out and left you gasping, and would be an identical match to a slice stored in the heart of a soul mate.

Is it really worth dying for the person you love?

When heaven breaks, who fixes it?

To be truly popular, it has to look like something you are, when in reality, it's what you make yourself.

I don't know the first thing about holding together a family, especially one that resembles an heirloom vase, shattered but glued back together for its beauty, and no one mentions that you can see the cracks as plain as day.

The first person you fell in love with stole your heart. The first person you made love with stole your soul. And if these were one and the same, you were doomed.