Her body was a prison, her mind was a prison. Her memories were a prison. The people she loved. She couldn't get away from the hurt of them. She could leave Eric, walk out of her apartment, walk forever if she liked, but she couldn't escape what really hurt. Tonight even the sky felt like a prison.

Maybe, sometimes, it's easier to be mad at the people you trust because you know they'll always love you, no matter what.

Don't talk to me. I'm tired and grumpy and I'll probably make fun of you.

She used to cry roughly three times a year. Now she seemed to cry three times before breakfast. Could that be considered progress?

Alice suspected Paul couldn’t really picture his father, just like she couldn’t picture Paul when he was away. Maybe that was the case with people you wanted more than was good for you.

There are two kinds of people in this world. The kind who divide the world into two kinds of people and those who don't.

If you ever meet a guy and you fall in love with him, but because of some weird genetic mutation he doesn't seem to return the feeling?... Wear that dress.