whether they'll write the story of my life as a tragedy or an epic fantasy... I was wondering if it was going to be a kiss at the end, or sad music and a sweeping camera shot over the fields I once roamed freely. I'm hoping for the kiss, but expecting the sweeping camera shot.

Sam,' the girl said. 'Sam.' She was the past present and future. I wanted to answer , but I was broken.

I grew up with boys of all kinds - I have two brothers, and I was in a bagpipe band for several years.

If that moment had been a real thing, it would've been a butterfly, flapping and fluttering toward the sun.

It was a strangely disorienting feeling, to have something you'd relied on for so long start to change, like finding out that gravity no longer worked on Mondays.

I was suddenly overwhelmed by what an incredible person this boy was, standing in front of me, and by the fact that he was mine and I was his. "Right now," Sam said - and I saw that he held the invoice for today's studio time in his hand, folded into a bird with sun-washed wings - "it's hard to imagine that it is raining anewhere in the world." "From Linger, page 258

I don't trust the ocean, either; it would kill me as soon as not. It doesn't mean I'm afraid of it.