“Eleanor was right. She never looked nice. She looked like art, and art wasn't supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.”

“Holding Eleanor's hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive.”

“What are the chances youd ever meet someone like that? he wondered. Someone you could love forever, someone who would forever love you back? And what did you do when that person was born half a wor...”

“The first time he'd held her hand, it felt so good that it crowded out all the bad things. It felt better than anything had ever hurt.”

“It was the nicest thing she could imagine. It made her want to have his babies and give him both of her kidneys.”

“My girlfriend is sad and quiet and keeps me up all night worrying about her.”

“Then love knew it was called love. And when I lifted my eyes to your name, suddenly your heart showed me my way”

“I am intrigued by the smile upon your face, and the sadness within your eyes”

“The eye through which I see God is the same eye through which God sees me; my eye and God's eye are one eye, one seeing, one knowing, one love.”

“Writing to you like this is the same as saying your name when I've woken up late, feeling sick, tasting rot. It's pointless, but it happens.”

“Our plans for the future made us laugh and feel close, but those same plans somehow made anything more than temporary between us seem impossible. It was the first time Id ever had the feeling of mi...”