“My emotions overload because there is no hand to hold, there’s no shoulder here to lean on; I’m walking all on my own.”

“It is possible that God is the way Annie Payne used to lean her old head against my shoulder...Drew's arms holding me...Ron Dunham walking out of the woods hand in hand with a child lost, then found. It is possible that God is my neighbor with her pan of brownies standing on my doorstep. It is entirely possible, that is, that the God I serve and worship with all my body, all my mind, all my soul, and all my spirit is love...It's enough. It's all the God I need.”

“i'll lend u my shoulder to u cry on,my hand to u hold,my feet to walk with u....but i can't lend u my heart..coz it already belongs to..someone..”

“I can be in control of my own actions, despite what my track record might imply to the contrary, and suddenly, I just feel like, sure. I can hold my boyfriend-yeah-that’s-right-world-boyfriend’s hand wherever I want to, and not because I want to be all, ‘Check it out, humanity, there’s someone out there who’ll hold my hand,’ but because we’re walking close enough that his arm is against mine and he’s musing over the meaning of ‘crunk’ like he’s sixty-five and somehow, by some mad glorious stroke of luck, he is mine to touch. He looks down at our hands. Ever sensible, he’s wearing gloves, nice leather ones. I left in a hurry, and I’m not exactly the most practical guy to begin with; I’m barehanded, and my fingers are cold. He tightens his grasp on my hand, smiles at me a little bit. I smile back. Beats pockets.”

“There’s an us?”“As far as I’m concerned…” He leaned forward, his mouth inches from mine, and my pulse spiked. “There’s nothing but us.”

“I’m a diva in my own right, I own my own and going to hold my own. ™”