And you… do you know what you are?” “Stupid?” “Beautiful,” he says, his face turning red.

I heard how people sounded when their dreams were shattered, when their lives were turned into a waking nightmare.

The world will knock you down plenty. You don't need to be doing it to yourself.

I don't know how I know that, but I do. I can feel the beat of that truth inside me. Taste it bitter on my tongue. Sometimes, like now, I didn't think I want to know who I really am.

The story of my life can be told in silver: in chocolate mills, serving spoons, and services for twelve. The story of my life has nothing to do with me. The story of my life is things. Things that aren’t mine, that won’t ever be mine. It’s all I’ve ever known. I wish it wasn’t.

Talking about someone who makes you happy actually makes you happy.

...sometimes, you have to break your own heart.