Love: It will kill you and save you, both

I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.

He's stuck with me and I'm stuck with him. We're stuck. That's what growing up is all about, I guess.

No one can tell us no. No one can make us stop. We have picked each other and the rest of the world can go to hell.

For a moment, my heart aches for him. I should never have asked him to join me here; I should never have asked him to cross.

That's what time does: We stand stubbornly like rocks while it flows all around us, believing that we are immutable - and all the time we're being carved, and shaped, and whittled away.

They told us love was a disease. They told us it would kill us in the end. For the very first time I realize, that this, too, might also be a lie.