There has to be a middle. Without it, nothing can ever truly be whole. Because it is not just the space between, but also what holds everything together.

But it was important to simply be sought, even if you didn‟t ever want to be found.

You know, feeling and action are always linked, one can't exist without the other. It's sort of a hippie thing.

If there was a way to recognize something you'd never seen but still knew by heart, I felt it as I looked at his face. Finally, someone understood.

It wasn't like I was some expert on the meaning of being supportive. Was it being loyal even against your better judgement? Or, like Olivia, was it making your displeasure known from the start, even when someone didn't want to hear it?

An ending was an ending. No matter how many pages of sentences and paragraphs of great stories led up to it, it would always have the last word.

The language of solace, and comets, and the girls we all become, in the end.