I thought Marcus was going to be in my life forever. Then I thought I was wrong. Now he’s back. But this time I know what’s certain: Marcus will be gone again, and back again and again and again because nothing is permanent. Especially people. Strangers become friends. Friends become lovers. Lovers become strangers. Strangers become friends once more, and over and over. Tomorrow, next week, fifty years from now, I know I’ll get another one-word postcard from Marcus, because this one doesn’t have a period signifying the end of the sentence. Or the end of anything at all.

See, my idea of cute comes with an IQ requirement. It's geeky cute. It's Rivers Cuomo, not Justin Timberlake. It's Gideon Yago, not Brian Mcfayden. Jimmy Fallon, yes please! Brad Pitt, no thank you.

Most people talk when they have nothing to say. I’m not talking because I have too much to say. None of which I’d want you to hear.

there’s too much tension in the world… what hope is there in the middle east if you and i can’t make peace.

I do so much revising as I go along; I wonder how I could write books if I hadn't grown up in the computer age. I think I'd be a very different writer. I find myself cutting and pasting, changing things around and deleting whole paragraphs constantly.

I'm not in love. It's a crush which is why it hurts. Crushes crush. Otherwise they'd be called awesomes. "I have an awesome on him.

The road less traveled will not be smooth