I'm a dirt road out in the country kind of person, but I remember thinking, I could live in Chicago.
If I were a tree, I would have no reason to love a human.
Scent is the strongest tie to memory.
Every third step I ran, my breath exploded out of me all in a rush. One step to suck in another cold lungful. One step to let it excape. One step of not breathing.
He asked for a specific. I gave him a specific. I'm sorry it wasn't puppies.
To Grace, these were the things that mattered: my hands on her cheeks, my lips on her mouth. The fleeting touches that meant I loved her.