Dreams are memories.
Memories are dreams.
But my time with you hasn’t become a dream just yet.
Because the sensation of your kisses
keep me from sleep.
I’m in love,
God help me, I’m in love.

What is infinity? I haven’t a clue.
But maybe that’s the whole point I’ve been attempting to explain to you.
The fact that it’s not known
Or seen
Or heard.
Infinity is every person, every being, every bird.
Infinity is a simple mystery.
It looks like a mystery.
Tastes mysterious.
Feels like something completely delirious.
We cannot imagine what this sound could be.
All we can imagine is infinity.

When I first met you, you had your arm in a sling. Your front teeth were crooked. There was this great, big, grin stretched across your face. I was curious. Sometimes curious is a far worse thing to be than in love.

Chocolate is a kitchen witch’s secret weapon. It makes friends easily, soothes troubled spirits, and is conducive to romance. When nothing else works, go with chocolate.
—Sadie Trevalyn’s Book of Kitchen Witchery

I'm not sentimental--I'm as romantic as you are. The idea, you know,
is that the sentimental person thinks things will last--the romantic
person has a desperate confidence that they won't.

Our dreams must be stronger than our memories. We must be pulled by our dreams, rater than pushed by our memories.