At some point we all look up and realize we are lost in a maze.

I think when you're 16, if you have good parents, they generally just fade in the background. I had great parents, and because they were great, I thought very little about them in high school.

You're not a little kid anymore. You need to make friends, get out of the house, and live your life.

She was not an adventure, she was not a fine and precious thing. She was a girl.

Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than about the stories and people we're quoting.

And I vaguely remember her smiling at me from the door way the glittering ambiguity of a girls smile, which seems to promise an answer to the question, but never gives it. The question, the one we’ve all been asking since girls stopped being gross, the question that is to simple to be uncomplicated: Does she like me or does she LIKE me?

Waffles are just awesome bread.