So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.

I hate you.'My sister said it different than she said it to my dad. She meant it with me. She really did.'I love you,' was all I could say in return.

Ah, Evie,” she heard him say softly, “I must have a heart, after all…because right now it aches like the devil.”“Only your heart?” she asked ingenuously, making him laugh.He lowered her to the bed, his eyes sparkling wickedly. “Also a few other things,” he conceded. “And as my wife, it’s your duty to ease all my aches.

Shrinking in a corner,pressed into the wall;do they know I'm present,am I here at all?Is there a written rule book,that tells you how to be—all the right things to talk about—that everyone has but me?Slowly I am withering—a flowered deprived of sun;longing to belong to—somewhere or someone.

Shrinking in a corner,pressed into the wall;do they know I'm present,am I here at all?

In spite of her plainness that would have made wallflowers of other women, she radiated a great sense of self-importance.

It is now my favorite book of all time, but then again, I always think that until I read another book.

Maybe she was a wallflower. There was no shame in that. Especially not if one enjoyed being a wallflower.

I just think it's bad when a boy looks at a girl and thinks that the way he sees her is better than she actually is. And I think it's bad when the most honest way a boy can look at a girl is through a camera.