I chew my food, leaning back into the couch. “I loved him. That’s what dumb girls do.”“You aren’t dumb.”I try to hold back my smile. “I’m hanging out with you, aren’t I?

We are all trying to get over the person who broke our hearts. We are all far from perfect.

I’m glad we can be friends.”There’s that word again. It’s like a safe word.

I almost feel bad for declining, but I feel more terrible that I can’t stop looking at how his chest rises and falls with each of his frustrated breaths.

I didn’t know who I was or who I wanted to be until you stumbled into my life. I refuse to let you go.

Our scars make us who we are. Some scars are just deeper than others.

I mean, aren’t we all tormented by past relationships?

He tangles his hand in my hair, and the other cups my jaw. Although I have this all planned, his lips feel shockingly sweet, swollen and soft, and more like home every time

The truth is, I always want to kiss you.

Two things compel me to move. First, the fear of being alone. I don’t want to be alone here. Second, the aching need to beat Blake in any way.

Love is a great poet its resources are inexhaustible but if the end it has in view is not obtained it feels weary and remains silent.

By now it is evident that the Soviet Union must gain control of Europe to maintain its empire.

I get paid by the year, and I try to earn my money.

Insofar as I'm good at directing, it's because I've become a writer.

We're facing a very different sort of threat now, a more amorphous threat, al Qaeda, terrorism, and so on. And so the military has abandoned the two-war strategy.

Memories contain hidden editorials on current events.

Scarcely any degree of judgment is sufficient to restrain the imagination from magnifying that on which it is long detained

Compassion directed to oneself is humility.

One rose says more than the dozen.