If I move, if I speak, if I so much as blink, I'm going to lose this battle.

At what point does a fly give up trying to escape through a closed window – do its survival instincts keep it going until it is physically capable of no more, or does it eventually learn after one crash too many that there is no way out? At what point do you decide that enough is enough?

Time has stopped; time is racing. Lochie's lips are rough yet smooth, hard yet gentle. His fingers are strong: I feel them in my hair and on my neck and down my arms and against my back. And I never want him to let me go.

He shakes his head with a slow smile. You'd better be right. If the phone rings, I'm unpluggining it, I swear to God-“ You'd do that to your five-year-old sister?“ I gasp in mock outrage. For one whole night alone? Jesus, Maya, I'd sell her to the gypsies!

How-how can we make it against the whole world?

Anyway, what does mad mean exactly?" Rami added quickly "Aren't we all a little mad? Don't we have to be somehat mad just to go on living, to go on hoping?

He is my soul mate, my fresh air, the reason I look forward to getting up every morning.