Here's what breaks us: Even though we know better, we still want everything to be all right.

I have no more idea now of who I am than I did before. But at least I know that. And I'm starting to figure out who I want to be.

I suspected that what happens in hotel rooms rarely lasts outside of them. I suspected that when something was a beginning and an ending at the same time, that meant it could only exist in the present.

People are rarely as attractive in reality as they are in the eyes of the people who are in love with them. Which is, I suppose, as it should be.

I know I should just leave. Just go. Because there's a point where a mistake turns into a big mistake, and I should probably come to my senses before I get there.

Because sometimes you just have to dance like a madman in the Self-Help section of your local bookstore.

It's like you're a character in this book that everyone around you is writing, and suddenly you have to say, 'I'm sorry, but this role isn't right for me'. And you have to start writing your own life and doing your own thing.