“If you'd take your head home and boil it for a turnip it might be useful. I can't say. But it might.”

“I need some fresh air," I say."Then by all means go outside. If it doesn't clear your head, it will probably kill you." Will might be teasing. I can't tell.”

“Floating there I held onto faith. Because you can't know who might cross your path or who will take your breath away. You can't know what friends might actually become sisters because they stayed by your side. You can't know when there'll be an unexpected detour that'll take you to the place where you were always meant to be.”

“Be to her, Persephone,All the things I might not be;Take her head upon your knee.She that was so proud and wild,Flippant, arrogant and free,She that had no need of me,Is a little lonely childLost in Hell,—Persephone,Take her head upon your knee;Say to her, “My dear, my dear,It is not so dreadful here.”

“It was like coming home after you'd been gone a long, long time. It held a million promises of summer and of what just might be.”

“And then what would she say? I just told your brother that I love him, and I'm afraid that he hates me? I can't be alone with Turner because I'm afraid he might ravish me? I can't be alone with Turner because I'm afraid I might ravish him.”