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.

Sometimes things seem so unbearable in the middle of the night, don't they? In the middle of the night, we're all such children.

Why do two people fall in love? It's a mystery.

Violence should not always beget more violence.

It was funny how dad was more honest in a book that anyone in the world could pick up and read than he could be talking to me. Or maybe it was sad. One or the other. Sometimes it’s hard to tell.

And I was crying for gravity. It had sent me down the stairs, and I'd thought that meant something, but maybe it was just the direction that all things tend to flow.

Someday, you do not know when, you will be driving down the road and someday, you do not now when, you will make a wrong tun. At the end of the road, when you're least expecting it, he (or indeed she) will be there.