“I like flaws. I think they make things interesting.”

“I don't know. Just because someone's pretty doesn't mean she's decent. Or vice versa. I'm not into appearances. I like flaws, I think they make things interesting.”

“Okay, so if that's not real, whatis? What counts, to you?"He thought for a second, then said, "I don't know. Just because someone's pretty doesn't mean she's decent.Or vice versa. I'm not into appearances. I like flaws, I think they make things interesting."I wasn't sure what answer I'd expected. But this wasn't it. For a second, I just sat there, letting it sink in."You know," I said finally, "saying stuff like that would make girls even crazier for you. Now you're cuteandsomewhat more attainable. If you were appealing before, now you're off the charts.”

“Looking at the pond, all I could think was that it is an incredivle thing, how a whole world can rise from what seems like nothing at all.”

“And I think she works so much becasue she can be in control of it, you know?' I said. She nodded. 'It makes her feel, I don't know, safe.'I can understand that,' Delia said softly. 'Losing someone can make you feel very out of control. Totally so.' I know,' I said. 'But it's not really fair. Like, after my dad died, I wanted to be okay for her. So I was. Even when I had to fake it. But now, when I really do feel okay, she's not happy with me. Because I'm not perfect anymore.'Grieving doesn't make you imperfect,' Delia said quietly, as Bert came back out to the van, adjusting one of the carts inside. 'It makes you human. We all deal with things differently.”

“I wasn’t ready to think about the other yet: that it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for Macon, but that maybe he wasn’t right for me. There was a difference. Even for someone who things didn’t come easy for, someone like me.”

“You know, when you think about it, that’s kind of a weird thing. I mean it’s meant to be sympathetic, right? But it’s kind of not. Like you’re telling the person there’s nothing unique about what they’re sayingI considered this as a couple of kids on Rollerblades whizzed past, hockey sticks over their shoulders. “Yeah,” I said, finally, “but you could also look at it the other way. Like no matter how bad things are for you, I can still relate.”