Lose the pessimism, Ms. Lane. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy.

I make a new discovery that totally blows; dying is the easy part. It's coming back to life that sucks.

Life equaled love plus passion squared. Loving and being passionate about what one did was what made life so precious.

Words are easy; lies as simple as parting your lips and breathing.

He wasn't handsome. That was too calm a word. He was intensely masculine. He was sexual. He attracted.

It began as most thing begin. Not on a dark and stormy night. Not foreshadowed by ominous here comes the villain music, dire warning at the bottom of a teacup, or dread portents in the sky. It began small and innocuously, as most catastrophes do. A butterfly flaps its wings somewhere and the wind changes, and a warm front hits a cold front off the coast of western Africa and before you know it you’ve got an hurricane closing in. By the time anyone figured out the storm was coming, it was too late to do anything but batten down the hatches and exercise damage control.

You're not falling for me, are you, Irish?" -Adam to Gabrielle