Trying to write about love is ultimately like trying to have a dictionary represent life. No matter how many words there are, there will never be enough.
Maybe, sometimes, it's easier to be mad at the people you trust because you know they'll always love you, no matter what.
When you have seen as much of life as I have, you will not underestimate the power of obsessive love.
Holding Eleanor's hand was like holding a butterfly. Or a heartbeat. Like holding something complete, and completely alive.
Like my mother said, you can't go back to holding hands
And then I did laugh, even though the future was a dangerous place, because I loved her, and she loved me, and the world was beautiful.
You love me. Real or not real?" I tell him, "Real.
If I let myself love you, I won't throw myself in front of her. I'll throw myself in front of you.
And I guess I realized at that moment that I really did love her. Because there was nothing to gain, and that didn't matter.
We've got to go to the people with bold ideas and candidates of conviction - we've got to be hotter than high school love.
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