The more you know who you are, and what you want, the less you let things upset you.

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.

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

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 don’t understand why things always go from perfect to weird with us. It’s like we’re incapable of normal human interaction.

You ought to stop listening to stereotypes and start forming your own opinions.

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