A woman isn't all that different from a bonfire. A fire's a beautiful thing, right? Something you can't take your eyes off, when it's burning. If you can keep it contained, it'll throw light and heat for you. It's only when it gets out of control that you have to go on the offensive.

There are just as many stories to be told in the dark spots s there are in the bright ones.

You can blame your ugliness for keeping people at bay, when in reality you're crippled by the thought of letting another person close enough to popentially scar you even more deeply. You can tell yourself that it's safer to love someone who will never really love you back, because you can't lose someone you never had.

I don't want to make the same mistake twice. I don't want to tell myself it's over when it's not.

Life, it turns out, goes on. There is no cosmic rule that grants you immunity from the details just because you have come face-to-face with a catastrophe. The garbage can still overflow, the bills arrive in the mail, telemarketers, interrupt dinner.

If his voice hasn't been the melody of my life, it's been the bass line, so subtle you don't notice it until it's missing.

Your hand fits mine like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle