This is what a memorial is: standing still, staring at something that isn’t ther

It's as if when you love someone, they become your reason. And maybe I've gotten it backward, maybe it's just because I need a reason that I find myself falling in love with her. But I don't think that's it. I think I would have continued along, oblivious, if I hadn't happened to meet her.

There is no word for our kind of friendship. Two people who don't see each other a lot, but can make each other effortlessly happy

Readers embrace all kinds of characters as long as they are written with emotional truth.

The unwarranted devotion. Putting up with the fear of being with the wrong person because you can't deal with the fear of being alone. The hope tinged with doubt, and the doubt tinged with hope. Every time I see these feelings in someone else's face, it weighs me down.

If there wasn't a word for it, would we realize our masochism as much?

With all due respect, if you’re forty-three, then I’m a fetus.