Neatness makes me feel like I have to be on my best behavior. Clutter is my natural habitat.
This is about as comforting as a cold brick when you’re lonely.
If she and Sam ever had kids, they’d be gluten-intolerant out of self-defence.
It’s all you think about, all you talk about, and all you want us to talk about. What in the world would we call something like that? Oh, yeah! An obsession!
I don’t think I ever believed in love, not really. Just though it was something James Bond made up, a long time ago, to get laid.
Are there any other missing persons living under your roof? Elvis? Jimmy Hoffa? Amelia Earhart? I’d just like full disclosure now, before we go any further.
It matters, like this: I belong to Malvern, you don’t.
Gabe brings home a chicken and Tommy Falk for dinner. Truth be told, I’m not unhappy to see any of them. Gabe, because it’s been so long since we’ve had dinner with him; the chicken because it’s not beans; and Tommy Falk because his presence makes Gabe cheerful and goofy.
I might never ride Corr again. I don’t know who I am without him.
Mum once told Dad that vices are only vices when looked at through the frame of society.
Somewhere fate laughs in her far-off country, because now I am the human and it is Grace I will lose again and again, immer wieder, always the same, every winter, losing more of her each year, unless I find a cure.
In the middle of all this, as Sean slips out of his jacket, he looks over his shoulder at me and he smiles at me, just a glancing, faint thing before he turns back to Tommy. I’m quite happy for that smile, because Dad told me once you should be grateful for the gifts that are the rarest.
I had so much free time that free time was meaningless.
He was not as soft as when I’d first met him, not as young, but the angles of his face, his quick gestures, the way he sucked in his lower lip to think before going on – I was in love with all of it.
That was pretty much all you needed to know about Cole, right there. He saw something he didn’t quite understand, liked it, and took it to be his.
I looked good when I sang the end.
Why did everything feel like saying good-bye?
I hated it. I hated this. I hated feeling so terrible because of someone else.
I could live inside a G major chord, with Grace, if she was willing.
When we kissed, it didn’t matter that I had been a wolf hours ago, or that I would be a wolf again. It didn’t matter that a thousand snares were laid for us as soon as we left this moment. All that mattered was this: our noses touching, the softness of his mouth, the ache inside me.