Sarcasm doesn't appear to work on him. If that's true, I'm in trouble: It's my normal mode of communication.

Our enemy is fear. Blinding, reason-killing fear. Fear consumes the truth and poisons all the evidence, leading us to false assumptions and irrational conclusions.

There was, like, this black hole where the world used to be, and we were both falling toward it. What could we hold on to?

If I had faced it then, I wouldn't be facing it now, but sooner or later you have to choose between running and facing the thing you thought you could not face.

He barely knew I existed. I knew some of the same people he knew, but I was a girl in the background, several degrees of seperation removed.

When I wake up the next morning, there's a Hershey's Kiss sitting on the table beside me.

You know how sometimes you tell yourself that you have a choice, but really you don't have a choice? Just because there are alternatives doesn't mean they apply to you.