Her grandmother used to tell her that a pink sky meant someone in the distance had just fallen in love . . . .

It was like the way you wanted sunshine on Saturdays, or pancakes for breakfast. They just made you feel good.

Girls like us, when we love, it takes everything we have.

Everything had felt so precarious since her mother's death, like she was walking on a bridge made of paper.

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

Happiness is a risk. If you’re not a little scared, then you’re not doing it right.

Men. You can't live with them, you can't shoot them.