He who leaps for the sky may fall, it's true. But he may also fly.
He is no longer mine to lose, but the grief is there, a gnawing sense of disbelief.
That's the easy thing about falling: there is only one choice after that.
Love obeys no laws other than its own.
This is what amazes me: that people are new every day. That they are never the same. You must always invent them, and they must always invent themselves, too.
Maybe this is the secret to talking to boys--maybe you just have to be angry all the time.