Autumn is the hardest season. The leaves are all falling, and they're falling likethey're falling in love with the ground.

That night when you kissed me, I left a poem in your mouth, and you can hear some of the lines every time you breathe out.

But whateverHoweverWhenever this ends I want you to knowThat right nowI love you forever

I sufferfrom unrequited self love.I love myself, but I don’tLove myselfback.

I would kiss you in the middle of the ocean during a lightning storm cuz I'd rather be left for dead than wondering what thunder sounds like.

...It’s hard to watchthe game we make of love,like everyone’s playing checkerswith their scars,saying checkmatewhenever they get outwithout a broken heart.Just to be clearI don’t want to get outwithout a broken heart.I intend to leave this lifeso shatteredthere’s gonna have to bea thousand separate heavensfor all of my flying parts.

There was a typo in the book. The line read, "I want to merry you." I thought, "That's exactly what I want to do: merry somebody.

Do you think that anger is a sincere emotion, or just the timid motion of a fragile heart trying to beat away its pain?

I remember the way loveused to glow on my skinbefore he made his way innow every touch feels like a sin