I've found that the way a person feels about cats-and the way they feel about him or her in return-is usually an excellent gauge by which to measure a person's character

Loving him didn't fix anything. Loving him didn't change anything. Loving him simply made everything else bearable.

He's not the brightest crayola in the pack.

I don’t like the way he looks at you.” My stomach lurched. “What do you mean? How does he look at me?” “Like you’re not a student and he’s not a teacher.

I'm always going to keep your heart safe, even if mine has to stop beating for that to happen.

no matter what bullshit you heard, hes still mine! he'll always be mine

I laugh, and it was amazing! I swear I could see my laughter floating around me like puffy things you blow off a dandelion, only instead of being white it was birthday-cake-frosting-blue. wow! Who knew hitting my head and passing out would be so much fun? I wonder if this was what it was like to be high.