“I think I get it now. It doesn't matter how nice home is--it just matters that it feels like home.”

“No matter what,” he said, his voice fierce and strong and rumbling through me. “You told me I was home to you and I get it. You’re home to me. I’ve never had a home. I like the one I found and I’m not losin’ it. No matter what.”

“Nuala shot me a hard look. "Shut up. I don't think love has anything to do with how the other person is. I mean, maybe a little. I think what really matters is you yourself. Like, you know, let's say you lo- really liked a self-involved ass. That doesn't matter. What matters is how that ass makes you feel. If you feel like the best person in the world when you're with him, that's what makes you like him. It really isn't about how nice of a person he is at all.”

“No matter where I go in the world, although I can't speak any foreign language, I don't feel out of place. I think of earth as my home. If everyone thought this way, people might notice just how foolish international friction is and they would put an end to it.”

“This stuff doesn't matter. What matters is what you do with it." Sara snaps the highlighter cap on. "I try not to think about how boring it is (History). I just keep reminding myself about how I want my life to be and what I have to do to get there. Then it's simple.”

“Didn't anyone tell you that size doesn't matter?""Yes, but I told him to put his pants back on and go home.”