How could I have been so stupid to ignore everything I’d had in my life? The color red alone was worth kingdoms.

I could hardly get a boy to look at me. All right, they'd look, they'd even take me out, but no one asked for a second date. I was too nasty, a real wise guy, and all the boys could tell what my rotten disposition was. Deep down, I wanted a commitment with a capital C. To get anywhere with me, a boy would have to sign his undying loyalty with his own blood.

I was beginning to understand.My grandmother's love was cold because she was afraid of things;that was why everything had to be perfect.

Young people believe that regret is something you will never feel if you simply do as you please, but sometimes it is a matter of degree.

Emily Brontë's "Wuthering Heights" was extremely important to me.

Our house was littered with books- in the kitchen, under the beds, stuck between the couch pillows--far too many for her the ever finish. I suppose I thought if my grandmother kept up her interests, she wouldn't die; she'd have to stay around to finish the books she was so fond of. "I've got to get to the bottom of this one," she'd say, as if a book were no different from a pond or a lake. I thought she'd go on reading forever but it didn't work out that way.

A boy who is trouble is something entirely different as a man.