A good conversation always involves a certain amount of complaining. I like to bond over mutual hatreds and petty grievances.

I didn't know how to stop wanting him. It wasn't that I had any hope—I knew I'd never see him again. But that didn't stop me from comparing every other man to Hardy and finding them all lacking. I had exhausted myself loving him.

Because one day of something wonderful is better than a forever of nothing special.

I had to let go of him. But I knew that as long as I lived, I would feel the phantompain of his absence.

I didn't know that, you take your coffee seriously, dont you?' 'Every morning, I run to the coffeemaker like a soldier returning to a lost love after the war.

He was unbelievably hard. Everywhere. He was in control, infinitely stronger, and he wanted me to know it. -Ella

One can't help but marvel at the variety of ways that women had devised to make us look like flaming idiots.