So it’s your death suit.” “Correct. Don’t you have a death outfit?” “Yeah,” I said. “It’s a dress I bought for my fifteenth birthday party. But I don’t wear it on dates.” His eyes lit up. “We’re on a date?” he asked. I looked down, feeling bashful. “Don’t push it.

In the end, what you do isn't going to be nearly as interesting or important as who you do it with.

It is worth it to leave behing my minor life for grander maybes.

I'd rather wonder than get answers I couldn't live with.

"Please stop," I said. "You're upsetting the black Santas."

This was what I liked most about my friends: just sitting around & telling stories.

It is so hard to leave-until you leave.