“Mandy's friends gathered around her as she told the story-the true and somewhat heartbreaking story of her first time. It hadn't been perfect, but she now knew that imperfection was okay-part of life, even. And for the first time in her life, Mandy Walters was realizing that she could live with imperfection.”

“Evan stopped completely. He was staring at her with those intense eyes. Staring right into her. Just like he had in those couple of moments when she had thought for a split second, that he wanted to kiss her.”

“They both fought to catch their breath, though Megan's oxygen deprivation had nothing to do with the game."You okay?" Finn asked."Yeah, you?" she replied. Every inch of her body was throbbing to touch him again."Yeah," he replied with a huge grin. He pushed himself around and got on all fours in front of her, pausing there with his face inches from hers. "I'm glad you stayed," he whispered, his breath warm on her face.Megan somehow managed to reply. "Me too."Then Finn pushed himself up and headed back toward the centre of the yard. For a moment, Megan couldn't move. Then Doug walked over and offered his arm. Megan grasped it thankfully and he yanked up to her shaky legs."Who's all in a twist now?" he asked with a smirk.Megan laughed and shoved him from behind as they headed back to the line.”

“Ruth had been a girl haunted and now she would be a woman haunted. First by accident and now by choice. All of it, the story of my life and death, was hers if she chose to tell it, even to one person at a time.”

“I held her close for only a short time, but after she was gone, I'd see her smile on the face of a perfect stranger and I knew she would be there with me all the rest of my days.”

“The view was breathtaking. Her gaze swept out across the splendid, exciting square. Yes, she could see the horizon, the view so much more sweeping than she had expected. She saw now what Jim had seen, what had been there all the time. So much to do and know, and yes, she could do this. And then she saw something else. A familiar figure, cap pushed back, walking toward her. She saw him moving closer, saw those clear, blue eyes. She heard a laugh-- whose? Her own. And it was all right. She could be right or wrong, but her vow to herself was clear now. She would be strong and not always too careful, not settle for a smaller life, and face what was true. What was true? Perhaps it was here, staring her in the face. "May I help you down?" Jim said. He was standing beneath her now, his hands on the bridle, looking up, his eyes alight. Palms up, arms stretched out, she reached toward him. "Yes," she said.”

“She'd filled twelve notebooks and still she hadn't stopped. Indeed, the more she wrote, the louder the stories seemed to grow, swirling in her mind, pressing against her head, anxious for release. She didn't know whether they were any good and in truth she didn't care. They were hers, and writing made them real somehow.”