the scornful force of his tone turned the word into a curse

What I mean is, I love winter, and when you really love something, then it loves you back, in whatever way it has to love.

Sarcasm is the protest of the weak.

It is a sad day when one looks back and sees that his largest regrets have become some of the most integral elements of his dreams.

I lost part of myself to him then, and a soaring sense of freedom revealed that this must have been my purpose from the first: to become a part of Phineas.

Stranded in this mill town railroad yard while the whole world was converging elsewhere, we seemed to be nothing but children playing among heroic men.

But something held me back. Perhaps I was stopped by that level of feeling, deeper than thought, which contains the truth.