“Sometimes Thomas Mackee will stick an earphone into my ear and ask me to listen to a song. When I get over the revulsion of putting something in my ear that's been in his, I sit back and let the music take over, and for a half hour there's something comforting about someone's heart beating at the same rhythm as mine.”

“I remember being thirteen years old, sitting in my room all night, listening to the same song over and over. I thought that if I could write something beautiful, something honest, I could make someone love me.”

“Life is a song. Your heart is the beat, your word is the lyric, your move is the dance. And love, love is the music.It has always been a dream of mine to sing my love away, let the music take her love to mine, the lyric touches her heart and soul. And may her head fallen over heel and so am I.”

“Are we biology or God or something higher? I know my heart beats and I listen to it. The beat is biology, but what is the song? ”

“He lay down beside me, pulling me back to his chest and throwing his arm over me. “Mine,” he whispered in my ear.”

“I place my hands over her ears and tip her head back, and kiss her, and try to put my heart into hers, for safekeeping, in case I lose it again.”