Some say that you know real love when you realise the only person in the world who can console you is the one who has hurt you.

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

Love is always dangerous. To love is to hope you'll win it all while running the risk that you could lose it all. And sometimes it's also about accepting that there's a risk that you'll love more than you are loved.

It seemed as if I could see things in her that others couldn't see, qualities which not even she was aware of. It was as I I could already see in her the woman she would later become.

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.

You'll stop hurting when you stop hoping.

When it comes to books and friends, it is best to have only a few but all good ones.