She wondered if this was true of every parent: if, prior to having children, they all used to be someone else.

Like Connor, Alex protected me -and he was the only person I let close enough to do it. Like Connor, Alex could finish my sentences before I did. But unlike Connor, for whom I had ultimately come too late, I was just in time to take care of Alex.

Scars are just a treasure map for pain you've buried too deep to remember.

After all, the only way to communicate is to find someone who can comprehend; the only way to be forgiven is to find someone who is willing to forgive.

You could only save someone that wanted to be saved; otherwise, you'd be be dragged down for the count, too.

Is it because they are so comfortable, they already know what the other is thinking? Or is it because after a certain point, there is simply nothing left to say?

But then again, maybe bad things happen because it’s the only way we can keep remembering what good is supposed to look like.