What a relief to love something for a bad reason, to love something that does not improve me, that impacts my life not at all. Nobody deserves snow and nobody deserves love either. It offers nothing but itself, and inconvenience, going grey and disgusting and difficult as I clutch a private, stupid, untranslatable joy to my heart, useless, and unsharable, and precious because of it.
- helena ftzgerlad, love and slush puddles















