“Beyond all lessons, beyond the model she provided, my mother gave me a parent's ultimate gift; she made me feel lovable and good. She paid attention; she listened; she remembered what I said. She did not think me perfect, but she accepted me, without qualification.”

“Everything just feels so empty without her. She was more a parent to me than my birth parents were. She took me in, fed, dressed me, but most importantly, she treated me with respect. She taught me that my abilities were nothing to be ashamed of, nothing I should try so hard to deny. She convinced me that what I had was a gift-not a curse- and that I shouldn't let other people's narrow minds and fears determine how I love, what I do, or how I perceive myself in the world. She actually made me believe that in no way, shape, or form did their uninformed opinions make me a freak.”

“I always feel sad for the girl that I was, because it never occurred to me that my mother might comfort me. She has never told me she loved me, and I never assumed she did. She tended to me. She administrated me.”

“So what was that all about?""I think," Jace said, "that she asked if she could touch my mango.""She said that?"Jace shrugged. "Yeah, then she gave me her number.”

“And she liked me. She liked me. She liked me. She liked me. Or at least, I think she did. I think she did. Etc.”

“Tucker: "But she gave me the perfect gift."Clara: "What?"Tucker: "You.”