And I wanted to tell her that the pleasure for me wasn't planning or doing or leaving; the pleasure was in seeing our strings cross and separate and then come back together.

Maybe all the strings inside him broke.

The pure and simple truth Is rarely pure and never simple. What's a boy to do When lies and truth are both sinful?

That's the mystery, isn't it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape---the world or the end of it?

Her library filled her bookshelves and then overflowed into waist-high stacks of books everywhere, piled haphazardly against the walls. If just one of them moved... the domino effect could engulf the three of us in an asphyxiating mass of literature.

I want to see you again tonight. But I'm willing to wait all night and much of tomorrow.

I could stand up and go to her and kiss her. I could. But there is still too much to be ruined.