All cynics are disappointed idealists. The more stars in the eyes, the harder the fall.

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.

You were the first in every way that counted.

Shrugging out of the damaged shirt, Jake said roughly, “I still dream about you.” “I have nightmares about you.” I dragged my T-shirt over my head, threw it aside.

How did people get over this? They obviously did. Every day someone fell in love with the wrong person and had to pack up all their fragile, misguided hopes and unwanted affection, and move on to the next picnic table.

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

Tiffs among the faggots were apparently the stuff of quiet merriment.