Nobody can pretend to know what people want to read or hear or see. People rarely know it themselves; they only know it after the fact.

He was one of those people who made you feel like they either didn't know or didn't care that you were in the room and if they ever did acknowledge your existence it was bizarrely score one to you, and twenty years later they'd tell you they'd always had a crush on you but never had the courage to say anything and you'd tell them, What? I didn't even think you liked me? and they'd say, Are you crazy? I just never knew what to say!

I can’t even think about what life “could have been” like in Boston, without crying. It’s like deja-vu, I don’t think me and Boston were ever meant to be.

Every single ordinary person has an extraordinary story.

Maybe love is thinking that every time your partner does or says something mundane that you want to start a Mexican wave from here to Uzbekistan in utter delight.

And nobody had told them that they were short on time.

Don't be afraid to fall in love again. Open your heart and follow where it leads you...and remember, shoot for the moon.