I know that I'll be writing for young adults for a long time. Mostly because I just love the readers and the teachers and librarians that I interact with.

Eyes open, then," I say, tapping the skin between my eyebrows. I don’t really need her eyes to be on mine, but I feel better when they are.

I suppose a fire that burns that bright is not meant to last.

I watch her blond head until it disappears around the bend, and I feel bare, like there's nothing left to protect me against pain. Her absence stings worst of all.

That our world is so massive that it is completely out of our control, that we cannot possibly be as large as we feel.

I am his, and he is mine, and it has been that way all along.

I used to think about giving my life up for things, but I didn't understand what 'giving your life' really was until it was right there, about to be taken from me