We Pisces, we're a special breed.

A photo says, you were happy, and I wanted to catch that. A photo says, you were so important to me that I put down everything else to come watch.

Nathaniel closes his eyes and jumps, his arms glued to his sides like that fly's. He doesn't try to break his fall, just hits hard, because it hurts less than everything else.

People had figured out all sorts of ways to make things seem different than they truly were.

Energy can't be destroyed, only converted into something different. So when a person dies, where does that energy go?

The process of growing up was nothing more than figuring out what doors hadn't yet been slammed in your face.

This is when I realize that Anna has already left the table, and more importantly, that nobody noticed.