If you have to explain about how something's supposed to feel, it takes away all the magic.

Your life can end in a flash before you even have time to know it’s over. There is no safe. There is no control.

Somewhere underneath it all, I know he doesn't deserve to take up space in my brain.

Do you want to be with Dave for the rest of your life?” Then he rips off a piece of paper and picks up the smallest charcoal stick from my set. He writes something. He passes it over to me. It says: Time will tell. “And while you’re waiting,” he says, “don’t settle for anything less than what you really want.

She's not going to let go until she sees for herself that there's nothing left to hold on to.

Not even a repeat of Dawson’s Creek makes me feel better.

And I just think that if you believe in something and you want it so much and you're not hurting anyone else, you have to go for it. Which sometimes means taking a risk, even if it's scary. But the thing you want most to happen doesn't stand a chance unless you give it one.