“This is a quote. Kinda bland, eh?”

“Sometimes people call folks here at the Simple Way saints. Usually they either want to applaud our lives and live vicariously through us, or they want to write us off as superhuman and create a safe distance. One of my favorite quotes, written on my wall here in bold black marker, is from Dorothy Day: "Don't call us saints; we don't want to be dismissed that easily”

“I don’t want to die, said February. This is what is going to happen, said the girl who smelled of honey and smoke. She walked over to February and whispered something in his ear.I hope that works, said February. I really do.I’d do it for you. I’d change our entire story if I could, she said. Our story, said February, is all wrong.”

“I smile because there are tiny dreams that play hopscotch at the corners of my mouth, and every time I breathe they float and every time I laugh they fly kites.”

“Cáel sighed. “Look, right now? Either you want Rose, or you don’t. If you do—and, quite frankly, it’s obvious to me that you do—then give the woman a break and give yourself some credit for not being a whack job. Women are strange creatures, Gray, and she isn’t a mind reader. Who the hell knows what kind of conclusions she’s drawn over your behavior? Shit or get off the pot.”It was a good thing Gray wasn’t drinking anything, or he’d have choked on that one. “That’s your advice on love? ‘Shit or get off the pot’?”

“And as for romance? Well, I want that too.I want to fall asleep next to you, 100 times a night,so I can know you 100 times better before we hit the day light. And despite all of this,I also want amnesia so I can relive each kiss with a perfect newnessthat leaves me smashed in the arms of rapture. I want the sky to fracture underthe impossible weight of an apology because I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I want so much.I'm sorry that I'm using "I'm sorry" as a crutch to lean on for so longbut if you sing me that song of sweet logic again then I promise to make the effortto stand on my own. There is a reason that our hearts are more like a muscleand less like a bone. I've known so many people who've have grown up flexingin front of mirrors and falling for their own reflection as if that's adequate but that's bullshit.Because we only get now until the time we go and if they've only got time to love themselvesthen nobody is going to be around to hear the sound of their heartbeat echo.So lady, don't expect an apology when I tell you I'm only held togetherby a heart that pumps blue, it's the strongest muscle in my body and I'm flexing it for you”

“And you are worth the time it takes to take the time to get to know you. We've managed to muttle through the awkward stage of i like you and you like me, but when we both finally said 'yes' life became a multiple choice test, not knowing anything we became each others best guess. and, holding your hand is less like exploration and more like discovery. lady, i don't have to study you to be sure. you're the choice i made before i knew what the other choices were”