Happiness is the best revenge, you know? Just be happy. It's a choice.

There are two kinds of sorry. There is the sorry imbued with regret. And a pure sorry. The kind that is merely asking for forgiveness, nothing more.

When you are in a relationship, you are aware that it might end. You might grow apart, find someone else, simply fall out of love. But a friendship isn't a zero-sum game, and as such, you assume that it will last forever, especially an old friendship. You take its permanence for grandted, whuch might be the very thing so dear about it.

The world is not that black and white, Rachel. There are no moral absolutes. It is complex.

You can't quantify love, and if you try, you can wind up focusing on misleading factors.

The worst thing about this particular end (of my youth) and the beginning (of middle age) is that for the first time in my life, I realize I don't know where I'm going. My wants are simple: a job that I like and a guy whom I love. And on the eve of my thirteth, I must face that I am 0 for 2.

He nods, as if to acknowledge that endings are almost always a little sad, even when there is something to look forward to on the other side.