Hey, its not much of a closet is it?" "No. Its not. I don't like closets. Life's to short to spend hiding in the dark.

When you live with a potentially life-threatening condition you get used to the thought of dying. You accept it, you push on. The thing that scared me was the picture of dying slowly and painfully, the loss of independence and identity to illness.

Jake's mouth found mine, his lips molding hot and soft to my own. His tongue tentatively tested the seal of my lips; I parted them and he pushed inside. It was startlingly sweet and achingly familiar, like finding harbor.

You couldn't hurt a fly." Actually I was pretty good at pinging flies right out of the air, but I tried to look appropriately harmless.

Not as intolerable as being dead, in my opinion, but I'm very fond of me. I would miss me a lot.

I'm not insane. This is very simple, very straightforward. Provided he doesn't kill me, its foolproof.

If there was one life skill everyone on the planet needed, it was the ability to think with critical objectivity