Every now and then, I’d meet a guy and think that we were getting along great, and suddenly I’d stop hearing from him. Not only did he stop calling, but if I happened to bump into him sometime later he always acted like I had the plague. I didn’t understand it. I still don’t. And it bothered me. It hurt me. With time, it got harder and harder to keep blaming the guys, and I eventually came to the conclusion that there was something wrong with me. That maybe I was simply meant to live my life alone.

Love is fragile. And we're not always its best caretakers. We just muddle through and do the best we can. And hope this fragile thing survives against all odds.

People were destined for one another; that's the romantic idea that young girls have, and I guess part of me still believes it.

If Alex has chosen you, then I want you to believe that I have chosen you as well.

Being with him was like toast and butter from the very beginning.

What were the odds that she'd turn away at the same instant the ball came flying her way? And that she'd be holding a soda in a crowd at a volleyball game she didn't even want to watch, in a place she didn't want to be? In a million years, the same thing should probably never happen again. With odds like that, she should have bought a lottery ticket.

It took strength to hold on to inner passion, and Noah had done that.