If they just carried on like always, everything would be ok.

When you're happy for yourself, it fills you. When you're happy for someone else, it pours over.

When Josey woke up and saw the feathery frost on her windowpane, she smiled. Finally, it was cold enough to wear long coats and tights. It was cold enough for scarves and shirts worn in layers, like camouflage. It was cold enough for her lucky red cardigan, which she swore had a power of its own. She loved this time of year. Summer was tedious with the light dresses she pretended to be comfortable in while secretly sure she looked like a loaf of white bread wearing a belt. The cold was such a relief.

Because he knew the best way to get what he wanted was to break down what made us strongest. And our friendships were what made us strong.

Being left makes you doubt your ability to keep people, even friends.

It felt as though they were the only people in the world, two young women about to bury the symbol of their helplessness, as if that's all it would take to make them whole again.

We have history, you and I. You just don’t know it yet.