A woman shaking in fear from demons in her mind, and the old man who loves her more deeply than life itself, crying softly in the corner, his face in his hands.

Summer romances end for all kinds of reasons. But when all is said and done, they have one thing in common: They are shooting stars-a spectacular moment of light in the heavens, a fleeting glimpse of eternity. And in a flash, they're gone.

Life, he decided, was for living, not for having, and he wanted to experience every moment that he could.

The scariest thing about distance is that you don’t know whether they’ll miss you or forget you.

If you look for me, I'm in the fiction section. Romance has its own section.

The romantics would call this a love story, the cynics would call it a tragedy.

It's easy to write something average or even something good. But writing well is quite challenging.