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.

You should show encouragement whenever you can. People try harder when they know that someone cares about them.

I pull back, gasping for breath. Reeling. His breath is ragged, and I place my hands on his cheeks to steady him. "Is this okay?" I whisper. "Are you okay?" His reply is anguished. Honest. "I love you."

I wish friends held hands more often, like the children I see on the streets sometimes. I'm not sure why we have to grow up and get embarrassed about it.

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?

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