“I could almost feel hope latching onto my heart and pulling it upward.”

“You can change the exterior in a fairly short period of time, but the heart takes a whole lot longer.”

“Heat prickled my cheeks. My palms went clammy. Love is a lot like food poisoning.”

“Emily Dickinson , in my opinion, is the perfect (although admittedly slightly cliche) poet for lonely fat girls.”

“How did your mother die?” asked Delk.“Car accident,” Katie replied, gazing out over the water. “She’d been to mass. A tire blew on the way home, and she was gone. I was nineteen, Pather’s age, when it happened. My brother was only eleven.” She paused. “I do know what you’re going through.” Katie looked at her.“Pather told you?” Katie nodded. Delk was glad Pather had told his sister; she was relieved not to have to tell the story again. “Does it ever . . . you know . . . get any better?”Katie shrugged her narrow shoulders and smiled. “In some ways it does, but it’s a bit like running a long race with a rock in your shoe. You get used to it, but it always hurts a little.”

“In spite of everything, I still didn't miss high school. The real world, even with all its problems, suited me just fine.”

“When you look at a person's eyes or her smile, you can't tell how much she weighs.”