And guys don't get attached, guys don't give themselves over completely, and guys lie. That's why they should be handled with great trepidation, not trusted, and held at arm's length whenever possible.

The first boy was always the hardest.

With my mom, when someone was gone, they were gone. She didn't waste another minute thinking about them, and neither should you.

Sometimes, you get things right the first time. Others, the second. But the third time, they say, is the charm.

It's hard to be nice when the rest of the world is so mean.

Like a word on a page that you’ve printed and read a million times, that suddenly looks strange or wrong, foreign. And you feel scared for a second, like you’ve lost something, even if you’re not sure what it is.

Some things you don't have to tell. Some things, between sisters, are understood.