I realized that life is so short: Why waste one minute of it worrying what other people think or say about you, or what score you got on some test? Why not believe what you want to believe, and do what you love?

If the guy likes/loves you, he won't care if you are a good kisser or not. He should like you for what you are - not how you kiss.

Weight doesn’t matter. It really doesn’t. I mean, it does if you’re a model or whatever.

Anything can happen in the blink of an eye. Anything at all. One. Two. Three. Blink.

Hasn’t anyone ever told you,” Jesse asked, in a semi-amused voice, “ that a gentleman never lays a hand on a lady?” Which I thought was kind of funny, considering where Jesse had had his hand the last time I’d seen him. But I thought it better to let that slide.

I've only been gone a week," I reminded him. Well, a week's a long time. It's seven days. Which is one hundred and sixty-eight hours. Which is ten thousand, eighty minutes. Which is six hundred thousand, for hundred seconds.

But I let it slide, because, hello, hot guy.