I understood books. I did not understand boys—especially alien boys.

Love is like taking a leap, Darragh. You don't know when you step off the ledge if the drop is six inches or six thousand feet. What matters is you jump.

Astray from a deep sleep chronic as I write by phonics, like insomnia I will always live the onyx night for revealing, and, upon it, still I'll steal the bright light of day right away just to keep building at speeds hypersonic.

Because I know what I feel in here. And I'm not the type of person to run from anything, no matter how hard it is. I'd rather face-plant against a brick wall than live for the rest of my life wondering what could've been. And you know what? I didn't think you were that type to run, either. Maybe I was wrong.

That's the funny thing about trying to escape. You never really can. Maybe temporarily, but not completely.

That kind of love should've been able to beat sickness. That kind of love should've conquered anything.