“The moon loved them. Not because they were beautiful, or because they were perfect, or because they were perky, but because they were her darling daughters.”

“The two spoons were stuck together. Not because they were sticky, but because they were stubborn and clingy and “in love.”

“Because of the age difference, I assumed they were related, mother/daughter. But they weren’t. They were father/son/possible lovers.”

“... just because [butterflies'] lives were short didn't mean they were tragic... See, they have a beautiful life.”

“Because it was starting to get dark, and because the streets were crowded, I bumped into a googolplex people. Who were they? Where were they going? What were they looking for? I wanted to hear their heartbeats, and I wanted them to hear mine.”

“I no longer believed in the idea of soul mates, or love at first sight. But I was beginning to believe that a very few times in your life, if you were lucky, you might meet someone who was exactly right for you. Not because he was perfect, or because you were, but because your combined flaws were arranged in a way that allowed two separate beings to hinge together.”