The thing about hope is that it doesn't go away even when it serves no purpose.

I'll tell you something about true love. There's no science to it. It's as natural as the sky.

Everyone should remember being born. It doesn't seem fair that we only remember dying.

I wanted to be rid of him," he says. He raises my chin with his thumb. "But not if it meant being rid of you. I climbed in beside you, and you put your head in my lap. You can't think I would have left you like that." "Look what it got you," I say. "Tea in bed and you here in front of me," he says. "It was a terrible decision, and I confess I'd make it again.

I was born into a world that was already dying; I belong to it.

She’s a commodity in a sea of broken girls.

Maybe hope isn't the most dangerous thing a person can have. Maybe love is.