There's only of him, she thought, and he's right here.

You're wearing at least four different kinds of sweater." "This is a scarf." "You look tarred and sweatered.

Do you feel like he ignores you?" "No. I feel like he doesn't see me.

I don't want you to go," Sam said. She was upset. "I don't want this to end like this." "You don't get to choose," Lincoln said. "It's just happening.

What are the chances you’d ever meet someone like that? he wondered. Someone you could love forever, someone who would forever love you back? And what did you do when that person was born half a world away? The math seemed impossible.

(Because being assaulted with maxi pads is a great way to win friends and influence people.)

I don’t trust anybody. Not anybody. And the more that I care about someone, the more sure I am they’re going to get tired of me and take off.