I know you aren't perfect. But it's a person's imperfections that make them perfect for someone else.

I wish the world would swallow us here, whole, in this moment. And that's when it hits me that this - this - is falling in love.

Boys turns girls into such idiots.

How many times can our emotions be tied to someone else's - be pulled and stretched and twisted - before they snap? Before they can never be mended again?

You read a lot. - Safer than going on a real adventure

I didn't know it was possible to simultaneously hate and ache for someone.

For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home.