The scariest part of forever is that nothing is.

Sometimes good choices are really bad ones, wrapped up in so much fear you can't even see straight.

It took me years to figure out that upset was upset, and tumultuousness was not the same thing as passion. Love isn't drama.

The magic of purpose and of love in its purest form. Not televison love, with its glare and hollow and sequined glint; not sex and allure, all high shoes and high drama, everything both too small and in too much excess, but just love. Love like rain, like the smell of a tangerine, like a surprise found in your pocket.

Sometimes I’ve even wished there was a human pause button, where you could choose some point in your life where you could stay always.

Anyway, madness and genius. They're the disturbed pals of the human condition. The Bonnie and Clyde, the Thelma and Louise, the baking soda and vinegar. Insanity just walks alongside the brilliant like some creepy, insistent shadow.

If time heals all wounds, and a book can hold a person's entire life, then you can speed up the process with a pulp time warp.