She had never been a pretty crier. She sobbed the way she did everything else - with passion and excess.

I think there are readers out there and I don't think the book is dead. And more importantly I don't think readers have to choose between literary and commercial fiction.

You always knew after shitty things happened, who your friends really were.

After all, once you know that part of something exists, it stands to reason that the rest of it is somewhere out there, too.

Sometimes there aren't words. The silence between us is flung wide as an ocean. But I manage to reach across it, to wrap my arms around him.

When I'm with you, bells go off in my head like a moving truck that's backing up.

Some lessons can't be taught, they simply have to be learned.