So much depends upon a blue car splattered with mud speeding down the road.
I prayed to trees. This was easier than praying directly to God. There was nearly always a tree nearby.
Life is like a bowl of spaghetti. Every once in a while, you get a meatball.
On that night after Phoebe had given her Pandora report, I thought about the Hope in Pandora's box. Maybe when everything seemed sad and miserable, Phoebe and I could both hope that something might start to go right.
I don't want to because boys don't write poetry. Girls do.
Sometimes you know in your heart you love someone, but you have to go away before your head can figure it out.