I know that the first person I kissed won't be nearly as important as the last person I kiss.

I don't know why it's called "getting lost." Even when you turn down the wrong street, when you find yourself at the dead end of a chain-link fence or a road that turnd to sand, you are somewhere. It just isn't where you expected to be.

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.

When you want something bad, you'll tell yourself a thousand lies.

Inside each of us is a monster; inside each of us is a saint. The real question is which one we nurture the most, which one will smite the other.

I'm weird. Everyone says so.

Sometimes we don't know we're dreaming; we can't even fathom that we're asleep.