It's funny, isn't it? When you are young you just want to be old, and then later you wish you could go back to being a kid.

There were days I asked for it-prayed for it when I went to sleep. The belief that I would see you again, that I could find you-the hope for it-was the only thing that kept me going.

Love is a kind of possession. It’s a poison.

Everyone just wasting time because they have so much of it to waste, minutes slipping by on who's with who and did you hear.

I start to back away before I do something wildly inappropriate, like jump on top of him.

This is the past: It drifts, it gathers. If you are not careful, it will bury you.

Mary bring out your umbrella - The sun shines down on this fine, fine day But the ashes raining down forever Are going to turn your hair to gray. Mary keep your oars a-steady Sail away on the rising flood Keep your candle at the ready Red tides can't be told from blood. - "Miss Mary" (a common child's clapping game, dating from the time of the blitz), from Pattycake and Beyond: A History of Play