the whole idea of boys being people you would actually choose to spend time with was pretty much totally incomprehensible to me. i could never think of anything to say to them, and they seemed equally dumbstruck by my presence.

That's what I love about writing. Once you get the words down on paper, in print, they start to make sense. It's like you don't know what you think until it dribbles from your brain down your arm and into your hand and out through your fingers and shows up on the computer screen, and you read it and realize: That's really true; I believe that.

I trust the red sun setting, the leafless November trees. On Monday morning I look foward fearlessly to Friday’s eve. But humans are not as reliable as nature, as trees. I wonder if you’ll come back; I trust only that you leave.

It's a lie, you know, to pretend that nothing is important to you. It's hiding. Believe me, I know because I hid for a long time. But now I won't do it anymore. The truth is bioluminescent. I don't lie, and I don't waste time on people who do.

...and she said we all had to find God inside ourselves, in the things we loved most.

nobody is like anybody else. that's why nobody gets along with anybody else.

when there's an elephant in the room, you can't pretend it isn't there and just discuss the ants.