Every life needs a little space. It leaves room for good things to enter it.

Wasn't that the point to being married? That you had a partner, someone you trusted, to help with important decisions.

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

The area was encompassed in a bubble of warm, fragrant steam from the funnel cake deep fryers. It smelled like sweet vanilla cake batter you licked off a spoon.

I just don't know where home is. There's this promise of happiness out there. I know it. I even feel it sometimes. But it's like chasing the moon - just when I think I have it, it disappears into the horizon. I grieve and try to move on, but then the damn thing comes back the next night, giving me hope of catching it all over again.

It had always fascinated him that she'd consumed so many words, that her head was full of stories, told a thousand different ways.

That, they knew, was true friendship. And they knew, if you're lucky enough to find it, you hold on to it.