I wish I’d a knowed more people. I would of loved ‘em all. If I’d a knowed more, I would a loved more

You can't own a human being. You can't lose what you don't own. Suppose you did own him. Could you really love somebody who was absolutely nobody without you? You really want somebody like that? Somebody who falls apart when you walk out the door? You don't, do you? And neither does he. You're turning over your whole life to him. Your whole life, girl. And if it means so little to you that you can just give it away, hand it to him, then why should it mean any more to him? He can't value you more than you value yourself.

No matter what all your teeth and wet fingers anticipated, there was no accounting for the way that simple joy could shake you.

Much handled things are always soft(27).

You are your own stories and therefore free to imagine and experience what it means to be human... And although you don't have complete control over the narrative - no author does, I can tell you - you could nevertheless create it.

More than fear of loving bears or birds bigger than cows, I fear pathless nights. How, I wonder, can I find you in the dark?

I want to feel what I feel. What's mine. Even if it's not happiness, whatever that means. Because you're all you've got.