I'm allergic to sad memories. It's the worst.

I wondered if the person who really loves you is the person who knows all your stories, the person who WANTS to know all your stories.

Ask two people to tell you anything, you’ll get two versions. Even easy things like directions, let alone important or semi-controversial topics like why a fight started or what a person was generally like. If you don’t know something for yourself, you just can’t be sure.

It is a lie that people who love each other must know everything about each other. Love must occasionally allow for a gap.

It's a weakness to apologize before hearing what the other person's grievances are. You don't want to end up creating new grievances where there were none to begin with. Another Daddy-ism, if you hadn't already guessed.

I let myself feel good and sorry for myself, but only for a second. Daddy always said that the most useless of all human emotions was self-pity.

In a way, whoever you know in a certain place defines that place for you.