At that time in my life, no conclusion was a bad conclusion. Something ended, and you stopped wishing and worrying. You could consider your mistakes, and you might be embarrassed by them, but the box was sealed, the door was shut, you were no longer immersed in the confusing middle.

To remain alone did not seem to me a terrible fate, no worse than being falsely joined to another person.

But I never thought of who he wasn't, I never had to explain or defend him to myself, I didn't even care what we talked about.

When you are a high school girl, there is nothing more miraculous than a high school boy.

Well, I think that if you sincerely try to imagine what life is like for another person - not in a mocking way, not in a satirical way, but in a sincere, compassionate way - I don't think that's exploitive.

She has always been a bystander in family destruction, never realizing she herself possessed the capacity to inflict it.

We all make mistakes, don't we? But if you can't forgive yourself, you'll always be an exile in your own life.