Dreams are only dreams until you wake up and make them real.

I've started to think it must just be chemistry, in which case we're looking for the Shift and we haven't found it yet.

We look into each other's eyes as we shake. His are still full of death and horror, but in them I see my face reflected, and inside my tiny eyes inside his, I think I see some hope.

I like you a lot. Because you’re funny and smart and because you seem to like me. I know that’s not a good reason, but I can’t help it; if a girl likes me I tend to like her back [...] I like you for all this stuff but I also kind of like you for the cuts on your face—

I've had good moments scattered since then, times when I thought I was better, but that was the last day I felt triumphant.

I owe her everything and I love her and I tell her these days, although every time I say it, it gets a little diluted. I think you run out of I love yous.

I just want to not be me.