Why was love such an addictive drug? Why did loving someone cause such suffering?

On calm days, you always think you've conquered them. You think that in the end you've finally done them in. That you've got rid of them for good, now and forever. But that seldom happens. Most of the time, the demons are still there, lurking somewhere in the shadows. Tirelessly waiting for the moment when our guard drops. And when love goes away.

She needs someone who will be everything for her: her friend, her boyfriend, her confidant, her lover and sometimes even her enemy.

He was the sort of guy who took a lot without giving her anything back The more he hurt her the more desperately she loved him. Life's strange. Sometimes things happen almost as if we're punishing ourselves for some fault that we can't really identify.

They were now both ready, not to begin from scratch, but to continue with a love that had survived for thirteen years in hibernation. They were no longer travellers without baggage. They were no longer twenty. They'd both been around the block a bit and had suffered without the other. They'd both lost their way without the other. Each had tried to find love with other people. But all that was now finished.

The best evidence that time travel is impossible is the fact that we haven't been invaded by hordes of tourists from the future.

You'll stop hurting when you stop hoping.