Kids aren’t bonsai. Maybe instead of trying to make them beautiful to the rest of the world, you should just love them and let them grow.
With aggressive come-ons, at least you knew where you stood. Holding hands, you got – hopeful.
Never choose half of anything just to be safe when you have a chance to have something whole and perfect.
Sylvain flung out his hands. “You think my father never screwed up with me? You think I never screwed up with him? You don’t get only one chance, for God’s sake. You get five million chances, second after second every day. You don’t have to get every single one of them perfect. Merde. It’s not chocolate.
In his view of what he wanted from the world, there were an infinity of moments that were beautiful, as this one was beautiful, with the light from the town hall gilding her jawline and shining off her hair in the cold northern night that made him want to pull her in and warm them both. “And.
He felt as if he were blooming outward, his heart one of their own roses unfurling in deepest winter, which scared him because... well, roses that bloomed in the winter got frozen in the cold.
She snuck a guilty peek at Matt. She didn’t want to be selfish, she didn’t want to hurt him, but music was who she was. If she didn’t have that, she didn’t have anything. As long as she was going to let him have it back eventually, surely he could survive sharing part of his valley until she remembered how to sing?
If you were only crumbs on a plate, I would pick every last one up with my finger.