I don't think we get a choice in who we fall for," Ian whispers. "I think we just do.

This is love, I think. A place where people who have been alone may lock together like hawks and spin in the air, dizzy with surprise at the connection. A place you go willingly, and with wonder

For better or for worse, music is the language of memory. It is also the language of love.

Isn’t that what true romance is supposed to be about? Finding the person who’s your soul mate. Someone you dream about at night.Someone whose name is on your lips when you wake up in the morning.

Isn’t that what true romance issupposed to be about? Finding the person who’s your soul mate. Someone you dream about at night. Someone whose name is on your lips when you wake up in the morning.

When I'm with you, bells go off in my head like a moving truck that's backing up.

She’s not like anyone I’ve ever seen before. When I’m not with her, I want to be. And when she opens the book and I see her face, I can barely remember what I’m supposed to say, much less how tospeak at all. I think I might be in love with her.

It turns out that there’s something even harder than not being able to be with the person you love when you’re happy: not being able to comfort her when she’s sad.

But there’s a part of me that wonders what it would be like to be the most important person to someone else, to always feel like you were missing a piece of yourself when he wasn’t near you.