A landline is an anchor - busy signals, long distance bills, missed connections and all.

The first time he'd held her hand, it felt so good that it crowded out all the bad things. It felt better than anything had ever hurt.

You act like getting pregnant is a disease you can catch from public toilets.

He knew why he wanted to kiss her. Because she was beautiful. And before that, because she was kind. And before that, because she was smart and funny. Because she was exactly the right kind of smart and funny. Because he could imagine taking a long trip with her without ever getting bored. Because whenever he saw something new and interesting, or new and ridiculous, he always wondered what she'd have to say about it--how many stars she'd give it and why.

Cath couldn't stop thinking about Levi and his ten thousand smiles.

Cath ran her fingers along the cover, over the raised gold type. Then someone else ran right into her, pushing the book into Cath's chest. Pushing two books into her chest. Cath looked up just as Wren threw an arm around her. "They're both crying," Cath heard Reagan say. "I can't even watch." Cath freed an arm to wrap around her sister. "I can't believe it's really over," she whispered. Wren held her tight and shook her head. She really was crying, too. "Don't be so melodramatic, Cath," Wren laughed hoarsely. "It's never over... It's Simon.

There are other people on the Internet. It's awesome. You get all the benefits of 'other people' without the body odor and the eye contact.