Memories, even hard memories, grew soft like peaches as they grow older.

I lost myself trying to find happiness in things that didn't love me back.

He reached for her and kissed her. It was all at once passionate, as if there was too much in him to contain. He was immediately swept up in it. It took no effort, the difference between swimming on your own and being washed away in a flood.

Misfits need a place to get away, too. All that trying to fit in is exhausting.

She accepted it from then on. Books liked her. Books wanted to look after her.

Nothing is really broke, so it's not like I can fix it. I just have to keep trying to find what I'm looking for.

But that would leave Paxton to fend for herself, and the last thing any woman wanted in this kind of situation was to look around and see all the people who could help her doing nothing.