In the end, though, maybe it's not how you reach a place that matters. Just that you get there at all.

Honesty in principle was one thing. In someone’s face, it was another.

Writing a novel is like childbirth: once you realize how awful it really is, you never want to do it again.

The world is speaking to you every day, you just don't know how to listen.

I'd seen another shade of him, and if it had been light where we were now, he'd have seen the same of me. So I was grateful, as I had been so often in my life, for the dark.

But I saw Blake earlier and he said he and Nate were taking off for an overnight business thing. So..." "... you're just going to jump their fence and their pool," I finished for her. Silence. Then Jamie said, "It's twenty-five degrees! In December! Do you know what this means?" "The apocalypse?

I felt like I'd been swimming so hard, and the water growing warmer and warmer the closer I got to the top. I wasn't there yet, but now I could see the surface, rippling just beyond my fingers.