If I love you more than you love me, I’m as good as dead. Yet I can’t make myself take it back. I can’t just walk away from you, because every time you pass by me without smiling, without touching my hand, or at least making eye contact, it feels like I’m dying inside.
I want you. I want you so badly I can’t stand it. When you left, it felt like the world got darker. Like I couldn’t truly see anything. Couldn’t feel anything.
You're not lost, Kaylee. You can't ever be lost, because I'll always know where you are. And if I'm not there with you, I'm on my way, and nothing standing between us will be standing for very long.
The worst memories stick with us, while the nice ones always seem to slip through our fingers.
When mice run, cats give chase.
I had no desire to hear another woman tell my boyfriend how hot he was. If I wanted him to know, I'd damn well tell him myself.
Walking around nude in front of humans was not a good way to keep a low profile with the community. It was an excellent way to make new friends, though.
...don’t judge your future based on others’ mistakes.
Why is this so hard?” I whispered. His pulse leaped crazily at my admission. “Everything worth fighting for is hard.
Some things are private. Some things needed to be said, even when the person who needed to hear them couldn’t hear anything. Ever again.
When I was a child, all problems had ended with a single word from my father. A smile from him was sunshine, his scowl a bolt of thunder. He was smart, and generous, and honorable without fail. He could exile a trespasser, check my math homework, and fix the leaky bathroom sink, all before dinner. For the longest time, I thought he was invincible. Above the petty problems that plagued normal people. And now he was gone.
Ethan was loyal and funny and protective. When we were little, he was the brother most likely to make me cry—and mostly likely to wipe away my tears.
...the dead have a way of becoming saints in the eyes of their survivors...
Can’t clean up after you anymore, baby brother, so don’t punk out. Make it count.
