I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.

I want morning and noon and nightfall with you. I want your tears, your smiles, your kisses...the smell of your hair, the taste of your skin, the touch of your breath on my face. I want to see you in the final hour of my life...to lie in your arms as I take my last breath.

What are their names? Psycho and Killer?" He shook his head. "Cupcake and Twinkie." My mouth dropped open. "You're kidding." A grin flitted across his lips. "Afraid not." If naming them after dessert snacks had been Miss Marva's attempt to make them seem cute, it wasn't working.

It was a good hald minute before I looked over at Todd. his eyes were slightly foggy, like he was waking up- reluctantly- from a lascivious dream. "I didn't know they still made them like that," he said.... "Cool, tough, retro-manly. The kind who only cries if someone just ran over their dog. The big chested guy we can indulge our pathetic Daddy complexes with.

Poor people have few choices in life, and most of the time you don't think too much about it. You get the best you can and do without when necessary, and hope to God you won't be wiped out by something you can't control. But there are moments it hurts, where there is something you want in the very marrow of your bones and you know there is no way you can have it.

What are you listening to?" "I picked up a DVD for Luke while I was out. Something with Mozart and sock puppets." A grin rose to my lips. "At this stage I don't think Luke can see more than ten inches beyond his face." "That explains his lack of interest. I thought maybe he preferred Beethoven.

...it was better to answer, no matter how ineptly, thank to withhold a reply. Because sometimes silence could wound someone nearly as badly as a bullet.