I'm fine," [her dad] said gently. "Back on the horse, Cath.' 'What's the horse?' she sighed, watching him pull on a South High hoodie. 'Jogging? Working too much?' 'Living,' he said, a little too loud. 'Life's the horse.

And because I’m so out of control, I can’t help myself. I’m not even mine anymore, I’m yours, and what if you decide that you don’t want me? How could you want me like I want you?

I want everyone to meet you. You're my favorite person of all time.

That was the beauty in stacking up words--they got cheaper, the more you had of them.

He made her feel like more than the sum of her parts.

If you don't want people to look at you, Park had thought at the time, don't wear fishing lures in your hair. Her jewelry box must look like a junk drawer.

She carried herself like she was exactly the size everyone else wanted to be.