You can't change where you come from, but you can change where you go from here. Just like a book. If you don't like the ending, you make up a new one.

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.

There was an art to the male posterior. That's all there was to it.

He didn't think he belonged here, so she was making him face some uncomfortable facts. People adapt. People change. You can grow where you're planted.

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

How could someone with a life this full feel this empty?

Watching them, she realized they made so much sense together. Every look, every touch, was a reassurance, almost electric, as if they were shocking each other with every contact.