“I am a writer....a master of words.'Like a knife, words should be handled carefully. They can cut deeply, the wound may never heal, and the scar can remain for an eternity.”

“Words can wound, and wounds can heal.”

“Yeah, Jame. I don’t have a woman. I am sure as fuck not taking a guy. You can be my date.” Matt answered. “Oh, because I’m not a woman, or a guy.”

“Joel’s face swam across my vision and I blinked, goose bumps running up my arms. I shook his memory away, determined to stay focused, although my heart caved at the thought of his last words to us, right here in this very spot: Take care of each other. I’d be damned if I was going to let him down now.”

“My knees shook as they descended upon me like vultures, squeezing the life out of my fragile bones. Never had I witnessed such a loud group of guys who got wound up so high over nothing. All they did was hoot over Ellis’s new apartment and belch the school’s theme song. Joy.”

“Words wound deeper than any knife, my lord. Often they fester and never heal.”

“The second he slipped inside of me, all I'd doubted, questioned, or feared evaporated, leaving me with one single, definite truth--I'd fallen in love with him in an all-consuming blaze that would blind me if I wasn't careful. We fit together like poorly cut puzzle pieces, but when the edges joined and were positioned just right, our scattered images came together to create a solid, deliberate piece of art, completely crystal clear and in focus. I was a goner.”