I glanced up at him. "I love things that are beautiful when you don't expect them to be.

What do you do with your anger when the person you're mad at goes off and dies? Bury it? Bury it inside you?

Hey, does my stupidity give you the right to bruise a tender heart?" "Yeah, yeah. I'm bruising a heart made of Play-Doh.

When you love someone, its never over. You move on, because you have to but you take them with you in your heart

Sometimes I think that love is one big fairy tale. I wonder if people who say they are in love, if – really – they’ve just talked themselves into it. They want it so badly, they kind of make it happen. They fake it until they start believing their own story. Maybe that’s just sour grapes or something. Maybe because it doesn’t happen to me, I don’t want to think it happens to anyone else.

Endings are beginnings, and beginnings are ours to turn into something good.

I'm not supposed to date you, Jenny." "That's what you said before." He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. "I didn't think this was going to be a problem. I mean, I'm pretty good at not letting someone become important to me. I have to be if I want to make it to L.A." "I understand." He laughed. "How nice of you to understand, since you're the one making it a struggle for me! It would be so easy to make you important.