I spent so much time telling myself that this wasn't home that I started to believe it," she said carefully. "Belonging has always been tough for me." I can be your home," he said quietly. "Belong to me.

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

Some people don't know how to fall in love, like not knowing how to swim. They panic first when they jump in. Then they figure it out.

Children always know when their mothers are crazy - they just never admit it, not out loud, to anyone.

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

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

There was a mood of magic and frenzy to the room. Crystalline swirls of sugar and flour still lingered in the air like kite tails. And then there was the smell-the smell of hope, the kind of smell that brought people home.