Love, it never dies. It never goes away, it never fades, so long as you hang on to it. Love can make you immortal

Please Mia," he implores. "Don't make me write a song.

I remember watching it all and getting the tickling in my chest and thinking to myself: This is what happiness feels like.

We stand there for a moment, staring at each other, savoring it. And then all at once, we slam together. Mia's legs are off the ground, wrapped around my waist, her hands dipping in my hair, my hands tangled in hers. And our lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that our lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. We kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Brooklyn must be surging.

She didn't care that people called her a bitch. 'It's just another word for feminist,' she told me with pride.

Neither sleet nor rain nor a half inch of snow will compel me to dress like a lumberjack.

Dying is easy. Living is hard

Adam's lips are set in a grime line. I can't tell if he's about to cry or about to punch the guard. For his sake, I hope it's the former. For you own, I hope the latter.

We are like Humpty Dumpty and all these king's horses and all these king's men cannot put us back together again

For my first recital ever, they gave me a cello. And for this one, they gave me you.

The you you are now is the same you I was in love with yesterday and the same you i'll be in love with tomorrow.

Sometimes I did feel like I came from a different tribe. I was not like my outgoing, ironic dad or my tough-chick mom. And as if to seal the deal, instead of learning to play electric guitar, I'd gone and chosen the cello.