Suzanne Palmieri

You. You are standing in your own way. And that means whatever it is scares you. It won't forever...but take your time. Nothing good was ever rushed.

Regular people have such a hard time listening to the low hum of instinct.

Life," said Simone St. James..."is stitched together from a series of mistakes, some little, some big, like the patches on the clothes we wore growin' up, you know

The truth is, time marches on and you have two choices: You move forward, come what may, and you experience all the sour and sweet things that fly at you from around corners, or you sit still. Don't sit still.

The air between them began to settle into a silence. Awkward, yet softly exciting. Like an unexpected snow day.

Truth is worse than soap in the eyes.

Trees down south have a difference to them, a subtle, slinking movement, mile by mile- a gracefulness, a swagger. Lanky trees stretching out their wiry thin, Spanish moss-covered branches, moss that sways and beckons ... come here, come here, it says.

I don't pay no mind to rules. Seems to me, rules are things made up by scared people too afraid to die, so they can't live. Or too lazy to make their own decisions. Rules are for breakin', as far as I'm concerned.

Love should never be a secret and it should never, ever be forgotten.

The only problem is the heart is quiet. It takes a very special kind of person to hear what the heart says. Most can't hear it at all and they have to guess. There are a lot of people walking around just guessing.

Do you love her?' she asked him.'Always have,' he said.'Then why in the world would you leave her alone?

Too much work, I guess, to figure out each person as a whole instead of parts of this and parts of that.

I'd forgotten so many important things. I'd stolen away my own past. It made me feel like a coward.

I'm like the moon," he started, "the hidden side of the moon. Not seen because it don't want to be seen. Everyone knows ther's is shadow there, but no one looks. It's like that with me, Byrd. I'm part illuminated, part in shadow-and that part that shines is all you ever wanted to see. But it kept getting smaller, and now it's dark. I'm a new moon now, Byrd. All there is, is shadow. Can you still see me? Do you still love me?

Pain is like a map, I guess. But I found my shortcut on my "map of the heart." Shortcuts always take longer, don't they?

There's a great deal of power in pretending.

You're a girl on fire. And it seems to me, you been dousing those flames for years. Let yourself burn a little.

[P]eople think that in order for something to be frightening, it has to be dark, musty, and full of cobwebs and secrets. That's a lie of epic proportion. The scariest, most unexplainable things happen in the bright light of day. And just when you least expect.