I don't trust men everybody likes. Being nice isn't the same as being good.

Forest deep, silent bells There's a secret no one tells Valley quiet, water still Lynburns watching on the hill Apples red, corn gold Almost everyone grows old

Your soul is like the souls of a thousand monkeys on crack, all smushed together.

If the truth didn't help anyone, and love didn't last, what was there left to struggle toward?

She overcame a moment of hesitation and glanced at Jared. All the lights in his crazy gray eyes were dancing. A shiver went through her, a ripple of his delight. She felt again the way she had at the Crying Pools and at her house, the thrill of sharing your secret soul and having someone think it was wonderful.

There are none so deaf as those listening to ‘All by Myself’ over and over and over again.

He was always part of her thoughts, and now that he was real, he was inescapably part of her life, but it was as she had told her mother: saying he was part of her or that they were more than friends sounded like love, but it seemed like loss as well. All the words she knew to describe what he was to her were from love stories and love songs, but those were not words anyone truly meant.