I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you've taken something out of me and I have to search my body for scars.

I sleep. I dream. I make up things that I would never say. I say them very quietly.

If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.

Sometimes you get so close to someone you end up on the other side of them.

You see, I take the parts that I remember and stitch them back together to make a creature that will do what I say or love me back.

He was pointing at the moon, but I was looking at his hand.

We have not touched the stars, nor are we forgiven, which brings us back to the hero’s shoulders and the gentleness that comes, not from the absence of violence, but despite the abundance of it.

Everyone needs a place. It shouldn't be inside of someone else.

Is that too much to expect? That I would name the stars for you? That I would take you there? The splash of my tongue melting you like a sugar cube?

You play along, because you want to die for love, you always have.

You wanted happiness, I can’t blame you for that, and maybe a mouth sounds idiotic when it blathers on about joy but tell me you love this, tell me you’re not miserable.

A friend gave me a rainbow as a gift, so I put it up in the sky so everyone could share.

All I know is, being away from you......makes it hard to breathe. I miss you so much

Honor is better than honors.

Good-bye... why am I hemorrhaging ?

This is a revolution, damn it! We're going to have to offend somebody!

Plots are for dead people.

Tear-stained flops are necessary. They're the gift you give yourself when you're willing to fly.

If you don't dare, you are doomed to dullness.

A hundred yards away, Mike Newton was lowering Bella's limp body to the sidewalk. She slumped unresponsively against the wet concrete, her skin chalky as a corpse. I almost took the door off the car.

He sounds like Jesus. Except rich and sexy.” “Watch it, Meg. In this town joking about Jesus could get you shot. You’ve never seen so many of the faithful who’re armed.