You know, there are easier ways to meet a guy than to run him over.

If there was one thing I refused to be, it was an insignificant footnote in some boy's history.

That's exactly why nature always trumps gardens. Gardens are just reality pruned of chaos. What doesn't work you rip out.

Adventure in life is good; consistency in coffee even better.

What would it be like to look in the mirror and actually accept what you see? Not loathe the reflection, or despise it, or be resigned to it? But to like it?

There is real comfort in being quiet.

What was so miraculous about a relationship that was based more on my gratitude than on mutual self respect?