There is something about her eyes. Eyes don't breathe. I know that much. But hers look breathless.

Picture yourself five years from now. Where do you want to be? Remember that. Every day. That's how you'll get there.

it is amazin, she thinks, how simple appearances can be created - a rush, a smile, a new coat of paint, a slow, calm voice, a hug, a new dress - a resolve to keep out questions and cling to secrets

I thought grandmothers had to like you. It’s a law or something.

Whatever you choose for your stationery is your favorite color because it's where you pour your heart out.

Chance. It weaves through our lives like a golden thread, sometimes knotting, tangling, and breaking along the way. Loose threads are left hanging, but the in and out, the back and forth continues, the weaving goes on. It doesn't stop.

There are all kinds of friends you make in life... But there's something different about someone who spreads their wings with you.