How do you feel when I smile at you?" he asked - and then he did smile at her, just a little. Not like myself, Cath thought. "Like an idiot," she said softly. "And I never want it to stop.

Things she knew now, that she hadn't known two hours ago: Park was covered with skin. Everywhere.

Cath felt like she was swimming in words. Drowning in them, sometimes.

Underneath this veneer of slightly crazy and mildly socially retarded, I'm a complete disaster.

You flirt with old people and babies and everybody in between.

People who fall in love with books never really stop falling.

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