Tabitha Suzuma quotes:

He is my soul mate, my fresh air, the reason I look forward to getting up every morning.

I mean, at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter who I end up with if it can't be you?

At the end of the day it's about how much you can bear, how much you can endure. Being together, we harm nobody; being apart, we extinguish ourselves.

You've always been my best friend, my soul mate, and now I've fallen in love with you too. Why is that such a crime?

As the light begins to intensify, so does my misery, and I wonder how it is possible to hurt so much when nothing is wrong.

This is the definition of happiness: a whole day stretching out ahead of me, beautiful in its emptiness and simplicity.

It's always nice being wanted. Even if it's by the wrong person.

How can something so wrong feel so right?

Pressed up against him, I can feel the thud of his heart against mine, his ribcase expanding and contracting rapidly against my chest, the warm whisper of his breath tickling the side of my neck, the brush of his leg against my thigh. Resting my arms on his shoulders, I pull back a little to get a look at his face. But he isn't smiling any more.

But I don't want to be fine, not if it means she's going to let go of my hand; not if it means we're going to go back to being polite strangers.

At what point do you give up - decide enough is enough? There is only one answer really. Never.

Before there was anything, there was Lochan.

I want to tell her that I can't pull her down. I want to tell her that she has to let go of my hand in order to swim. I want to tell her that she must live her own life. But I sense she already knows that these options are open to her. And that she, too, has made her choice.

I don't know when it started - this thing - bit it's growing, muffling me, suffocating me like poison ivy. I grew into it. It grew into me. We blurred at the edges, became an amorphous, seeping, crawling thing.

I might appear confident and chatty, but I spend most of my time laughing at jokes I don't find funny, saying things I don't really mean - because at the end of the day that's what we're all trying to do: fit in, one way or another, desperately trying to pretend we're all the same.

I am sure that music was never meant to sound this harsh, this painful.

...and my loneliness, always my loneliness - that airless bubble of despair that is slowing stifling me.

And the very important fact that I'm here to worry with you and go through all of this - every little bit of it - by your side, even your worst-case-scenario, should it somehow come to that. You wouldn't be doing any of it alone.' Her voice drops and she looks down at our hands, fingers entwined, resting on her lap. 'Whatever happens, there will always be us.

And this is something I must accept - even if, like acid on metal, it is slowly corroding me inside.

Any guy, even imaginary, would just feel like second best. Second best to what? I don't even have an image of the perfect boyfriend. I just know he must exist. Because I have all these feelings-love, longing, wanting to be touched, dreaming of being kissed-yet no one to focus them on.

Anyway, what does mad mean exactly?" Rami added quickly "Aren't we all a little mad? Don't we have to be somehat mad just to go on living, to go on hoping?

At the age of five she has already come to terms with one of the life's harshest lessons: that the world isn't fair.

Being together, we harm nobody; being apart, we extinguish ourselves.

But then why is it so terrible for me to be with the girl I love? Everyone one is permitted to have what they want, express their love as they please, without fear of harassment, ostracism, persecution, or even the law. Even emotionally abusive, adulterous relationships are often tolerated, despite the harm they cause others. In our progressive, permissive society, all these harmful, unhealthy types of "love" are allowed--but not ours.

But whichever form it took it brought with it, in those moments of bitter anguish, such a desperate surge of hope that it was almost untouchable, and flitted away like a golden butterfly into the bright blue sky - beautiful, unreachable and completely transistent.

Even though I'm surrounded by pupils, there is the invisible screen screen between us, and behind the glass wall I am screaming - screaming in my own silence, screaming to be noticed, to be befriended, to be liked.

Family: the most important thing of all. My siblings may drive me crazy at times but they are my blood. They're all I've known. My family is me. They are my life. Without them I walk the planet alone. Forbidden, Tabitha Suzuma

He shakes his head with a slow smile. You'd better be right. If the phone rings, I'm unpluggining it, I swear to God-" You'd do that to your five-year-old sister?" I gasp in mock outrage. For one whole night alone? Jesus, Maya, I'd sell her to the gypsies!

He will think Lochan wasn't loved, but he was, more deeply than most people are in a lifetime.

How-how can we make it against the whole world?

I am overcome by a feeling of complete detachment. I am a mere object to these people. I am barely human any more.

I can't tell you. I can't tell you of all people. Throughout my life you were the one person I could turn to. The one person I could always count on to understand. And now that I've lost you, I've lost everything.

I feel like I'm going crazy: seeing you every day but never being able to - to hold you, to touch you when anyone else is around. i just want to take your hand, kiss you, hug you, without having to hide all the time. All those things every other couple takes for granted!

I would give anything to escape myself, Flynn thought, just for a day, just for a minute even. Just to know what it was like to think differently, to feel differently, and to not be me.

If I keep breathing, then I have to keep living, and if I keep living, then I have to keep hurting, and I can't - not like this.

If I move, if I speak, if I so much as blink, I'm going to lose this battle.

It's horrible being ashamed of someone you care about; it eats away at you. And if you let it get to you, if you give up the fight and surrender, eventually that shame turns to hate.

I've never seen anyone sleep with their head hanging off the back of a wooden chair before - was the couch not comfortable enough for you?

Lochie. The boy I once loved. The boy I still love. The boy I will continue to love, even when my part in this world is over too.

Nothing can relieve the pain. Not crying, laughing, screaming, begging. Nothing can change the past.

Otherwise I'll fall apart. I'm going to fall apart. I am falling apart.

Out of the millions and millions of people that inhabit this planet, he is one of the tiny few I can never have.

She can't just be a face, a body; there has to be more than that, some kind of connection. And I can't connect, don't want to connect, with anyone.

The sight of such aching beauty would infuse his soul with pain.

The words fire from my mouth like bullets, ricocheting off the walls before I can even register what I'm saying.

There are no laws, no boundaries on feelings.We can love each other as much and as deeply as we want.No one, Maya, no one can ever take that away from us.

They say when you really love someone, you should be willing to set them free. So that is what I am doing. I will step back and you will move on. I will let you go. ... Your happiness means everything to me. I will listen for your voice in the distance. I will look at the moon. I will keep you in my pocket. I will carry your smile with me everywhere, like a warm and comforting glow.

This whole time, my whole life, that harsh, stony path was leading up to this one point. I followed it blindly, stumbling along the way, scraped and weary, without any idea of where it was leading, without ever realizing that with every step I was approaching the light at the end of a very long, dark tunnel. And now that I've reached it, now that I'm here, I want to catch it in my hand, hold onto it forever to look back on - the point at which my new life really began.

Time has stopped; time is racing. Lochie's lips are rough yet smooth, hard yet gentle. His fingers are strong: I feel them in my hair and on my neck and down my arms and against my back. And I never want him to let me go.

Trying to describe my life and feelings to you is like trying to describe coulours to the blind, or music to the deaf. It's simply not possible.

What else could he possibly have done? What choices did he ever have?

Willa's big blue eyes, Willa's dimpled-cheeked smile. Tiffin's shaggy blond mane, Tiffin's cheeky grin. Kit's yells of excitement, Kit's glow of pride. Maya's face, Maya's kisses, Maya's love. Maya, Maya, Maya . . .

You cannot undo the past; you can only learn to live with it, find some way of making peace with it, and move on.