It wasn't the sort of kiss I'd had with him before, hungry, wanting, desperate. It wasn't the sort of kiss I'd had with anyone before. This kiss was so soft that it was like a memory of a kiss, so careful on my lips that it was like someone running his fingers along them.

The dog pranced delightedly around his feet as if he'd been gone to another planet instead of merely underneath a car.

And then I opened my eyes and it was just Grace and me - nothing anywhere but Grace and me - she pressing her lips together as though she were keeping my kiss inside her, and me, holding this moment that was as fragile as a bird in my hands.

I really love nature. I grew up in the country. But one of the things about nature is that it is beautiful but it's also very dangerous.

My hand aching because grace wasn't underneath it 3!

My good mood felt like an endangered species.

As the hours crept by, the afternoon sunlight bleached all the books on the shelves to pale, gilded versions of themselves and warmed the paper and ink inside the covers so that the smell of unread words hung in the air.