There is a point. I don't know what it is, but everything I've had, and everything I've lost, and everything I felt-it meant something. Maybe there isn't a meaning to life. Maybe there's only a meaning to living. That's what I've learned. That's what I'm going to be doing from now on. Living. And loving, as sappy as it sounds

Writing a book is hard. It turns out, writing a second book is twice as hard.

Macon, wet from the raindrops for the first time.

Are you kidding? I'm supposed to put my books in this filthy tin coffin?

What did you do to Amma?" "I was late to school." He studied my face. I studied his. "Number 2?" I nodded. "Sharp?" "Started out sharp and then she sharpened it.

The guy thought he was Mick Jagger. I felt bad for him.

A kiss that was every bit as big and every bit as small as a kiss can be.