What can we do?" Mom asked again. I shrugged. But she kept asking, as if there were something she could do, until I just kind of crawled across the couch into her lap and my dad came over and held my legs really tight and I wrapped my arms all the way around my mom's middle and they held on to me for hours while the tide rolled in.

You can't dingleberry that! That's a flagrant misuse of the dingleberry!

I'm sitting her thinking, -God, I swear I will take a vow of silence and move to a monastery and worship you for all my days if you just this once provide me with an invisibility cloak, come on, come on, please please invisibility cloak now now now-. It's very possible that Jane is thinking the same thing, I have no idea, because she's not talking either, and I can't look at her on account of how I'm blinded by embarrassment.

I love you present tense.

Because there is no glory in illness. There is no meaning to it. There is no honor in dying of.

We are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be.

the existence of broccoli does not in any way affect the taste of chocolate