“You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect—you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break—her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there.”

“she may not be the most popular or prettiest but if you love her and she makes you smile.. what else matters?”

“He’s not perfect. You aren’t either, and the two of you will never be perfect. But if he can make you laugh at least once, causes you to think twice, and if he admits to being human and making mistakes, hold onto him and give him the most you can. He isn’t going to quote poetry, he’s not thinking about you every moment, but he will give you a part of him that he knows you could break. Don’t hurt him, don’t change him, and don’t expect for more than he can give. Don’t analyze. Smile when he makes you happy, yell when he makes you mad, and miss him when he’s not there. Love hard when there is love to be had. Because perfect guys don’t exist, but there’s always one guy that is perfect for you.”

“If you like her, if she makes you happy, and if you feel like you know her---then don't let her go.”

“Suzanne takes you down to her place near the river You can hear the boats go by You can spend the night beside her And you know that she's half crazy But that's why you want to be there And she feeds you tea and oranges That come all the way from China And just when you mean to tell her That you have no love to give her Then she gets you on her wavelength And she lets the river answer”

“What did you call her?" she asks but I don't think it's her real question."Sunshine," I say, and she smiles like she believes it's perfect and she may be the only person other than me who would think so."What is she to you?" she whispers. The real question and I know the answer even if I don't know how to say it.Drew's muffled voice rises up from the floor before I can respond."Family," he says.And he's right.”

“If she tells you how she wishes she were closer to her sister and that her dad makes her sad: She loves you, of course she loves you.”