“How do you tell the difference between real people and time ripples?""You mean besides punching them in the stomach?" I blushed, not because I'd hit him, but because I was thinking about his abs.”

“What did you think about?" I wish I could tell him that I thought about him, but I lied to him once and I won't do it again. And besides, I wasn't thinking about Xander either. "I thought about angels," I say."Angels?""You know. The ones in the old stories. How they can fly to heaven." "Do you think anyone believes in them anymore?" He asks."I don't know. No. Do you?""I believe in you," he says, his voice hushed and almost reverent. "That's more faith than I ever thought I'd have.”

“I keep telling this story - different people, different places, different times - but always you, always me, always this story, because a story is a tight rope between two worlds.”

“But the inside stuff Isn't in these poems About how to be a REAL HUMAN BEING Because no one can tell you that Except you. Because the you of you Is inside you someplace Probably in the middle of your heart. You can feel it there. And the you in you ALWAYS knows when you're being a REAL HUMAN BEING You know what I mean. And don't let anyone tell you different.”

“I was going to punch the shit out him," he told me. I could feel his voice vibrating against my skin. "Luke. I didn't though. You know why?"I'd wondered about that."You asked me not to. Last summer. Remember? You gave me that note. 'Stop punching people.' It's the only thing you've ever asked me to do. I can do that much for you. I think I'd do anything for you.”

“Then I'd tell him how fond I am of basketball, which isn't a total lie because I have a real appreciation for boys in shorts.”