“3:12 pm Secretly, I admit, I find many of my classmates annoying. I've often thought to myself, 'Good grief, these people are five-year-olds. Why must I spend my days among them?' But have I ever said such things aloud? No. I have been nothing but generous to them, and kept these thoughts to myself. And how have they repaid me? Have they been grateful or kind? Ho NO!”

“Are you sure you want me to go after Christina? Lately I've kind of thought I might just give up on that. Plus, didn't you and I need to gaze into each other's eyes first? How will I know how to gaze at Christina? And my pebble kicking? Disaster.”

“I've been sniffing out the guys in my English class (to the extent that this is possible without getting my throat cut), but they smell the same way they always do: like feet and testicles. As opposed to freesias. I don't want to keep sniffing them, Lyd. - Letter from Seb to Lyd.”

“My father, I never knew, except for this one time when he threw a ball and told me to go fetch it."Dad," I said. "Am I a dog?""Lydia," he said. "I apologize.”

“Dear Amelia,I hear there are giant jellyfish in the Arctic,tentacles longer than train carriages.Haystacks fly over cities in whirlwinds, and fish frogs and turtles rain on towns.There are spaces of perfect nothing that they call black holes.Nothing's impossible- that's what you think I'm trying to say.But I'm not.There are things that are impossible - unimaginable even- and here they are: That I broke you.Betrayed you.Said I'd given up on you. Sent you flying to a park in a thunderstorm.That I've been wrong about you all along- saw something in your face each time you faded to your past, when the opposite was true.That all this time you've been lost and that I won't get a second chance to find you.Amelia your name is a song. It's a name you can't say without smiling or crying, without casting both shadows and light. But there are too many places to hide or get lost in a name like Amelia.So this is me shouting that name. They say nobody ever escapes from a black hole. They don't know the strength in my Amelia. The strength in your grip when you want to stay out dancing- the strength in your wicked smile.Riley”

“I was just peeling some potatoes for dinner and they all looked like crisp white potatoes until I cut them in half. Every single one had a rotten, gray core. [. . .] I feel like the whole world is black, rotting, and evil. Even when it looks crisp on the outside, that's a lie, because you can't trust anything - on the inside it's nothing like mold. [. . .] So, see, nothing good is ever going to happen, and anyone who says it is, is lying to you.”

“Brookfield High School. How may I direct your call? No, sir, this is not a waste- disposal unit, I'm afraid you have the wrong number.”