Don't you wish you could take a single childhood memory and blow it up into a bubble and live inside it forever?

He had a smug smile on his lips like he knew, even in his sleep, that women all around him were dying from love because he'd taken their hearts and hidden them where they'd never find them.

People fall in love all the time. And it's not always with the right people. And it's not always reciprocated.

Why were girls in such a hurry to grow up? Agatha would never understand. Childhood was magical. Leaving it behind was a magnificent loss.

You are who you are, whether you like it or not, so why not like it?

Her life was monotonous, but it kept her out of trouble. . . . This, her father would say, was called being an adult.

He reached out and pushed some hair behind her ears. The gesture was tender, but it hit her with an unexpected force, like when you're in the ocean and a wave hits you. It's so soft and coll that it surprised you that it has such strength.