She mailed me a Merry Christmas-I'm-Breaking-Up-with-You card. I'll read it to you," he said. He cleared his throat. "Dear Marcus. Merry Christmas. I'm breaking up with you. Mia.

Gone for a while Hoping, always, to return If you will let me

You can only be in a bad mood for so long before you have to face up to the fact that it isn't a bad mood at all; it's just your sucky personality.

When you say too much about anything important, it always ends up sounding more trivial than it is. Words trash it.

Zen cuts straight through the Quidditch match in progress and almost gets taken down by a Beater hurling a Nerf quaffle right at his machopartes.

The tales we tell ourselves about ourselves makes us who we are.

So much of courtship is the unspoken.