One must have sorrow to truly appreciate joy.

Jealousy smells like the water in the bottom of a flower vase after the flowers have died.

He hadn’t been her first lover or the first boy to give her an orgasm. He hadn’t even been the first she’d loved. He’d been the first to turn her inside out with something as simple as a smile. The first to make her doubt herself. He’d taken her deeper than anyone ever had, and yet she hadn’t drowned.

I had no words to give him. No explanation. I didn’t understand it, myself. It scared me, but then so do roller coasters, and I ride them anyway, too.

There's nothing that says you can't change." "Not even if it changes everything else?" I shook my head. "Not even then.

There seemed to be so much to say, but no words adequate to say it.

Choices. We all make them, sometimes more than once. Sometimes it's the choices we make over and over that define us, but more often it's the choices we don't make.