“I needed to say something. Something romantic! Something to sweep her off her feet.
"You're like a potato!" I shouted after her. "In a minefield.”

“There was nothing I could say in retaliation except something that would confuse her.”

“She was unique: there was something abnormal about her, and it was that abnormal something that made her magnetic.”

“She stood there until something fell off the shelf inside her.”

“There was something wrong with her. She did not know what it was but there was something wrong with her. A hunger, a restlessness. An incomplete knowledge of herself. The sense of something farther away, beyond her reach.”

“There is something about her eyes. Eyes don't breathe. I know that much. But hers look breathless.”

“It was something like love
From another world that seized her
From behind, and she gave, not lifting her head
Out of dew, without ever looking, her best
Self to that great need.”

“Some chick came up to me and said something, so I kicked her in the box and shoved her.”

“My parents ask if I'm alright; I say "I've just been staying up too late.
I need to sleep" I need to do something!
To get this awful weight up off my chest,
keep her pretty ghost from chasing me!”

“To have her here in bed with me, breathing on me, her hair in my mouth—I count that something of a miracle.”