He'd stopped trying to bring her back. She only came back when she felt like it anyway, in dreams and lies and broken-down deja-vu.

You look so blindingly cute right now, I feel like I need to make a pinhole in a piece of paper just to look at you.

Take off your glasses." "Why? I thought you liked my glassess." "I love your glasses. I especially love the moment when you take them off.

That’s because you ooze preemptive leave-me-alone death rays.

Wasn’t hitting bottom the thing you had to do to knock some sense into yourself? Wasn’t hitting bottom the thing that showed you which way was up?

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're never going to find a guy who's exactly like you - first of all, because that guy never leaves his dorm room.