... nothing broke my heart like the slow death of a shared joke that had once seemed genuinely funny.

Before and after... I heard a thousand times that a boy, or a man, can't make you happy, that you have to be happy on your own before you can be happy with another person. All I can say is, I wish it were true.

I think that there's some confusion in my own mind about what I believe.

I always worried someone would notice me, and then when no one did, I felt lonely.

Probably I, like a lot of people, became a writer in imitation of or in homage to the books I enjoyed. When you're so captivated by something, you think, could I do that? Hmm, let me try

I'm able to separate fiction and reality. I guess it remains to be seen if other people are.

What greater happiness is there than the privilege of being bored together?