It’s hard to throw away history. It was like you were throwing away a part of yourself.

There hadn’t been one specific moment. It was like gradualy waking up. You go from being asleep to the space between dreaming and awake and then into consciousness. It’s a slow process, but when you’re awake, there’s no mistaking it. There was no mistaking that it had been love.

You can't put being in love on a scale. Either you are or you aren't.

The most believable lies are the ones that are atleast a little bit true.

When boy likes you, you say no thank you. You don't kick him on the ground.