A real fighter never cries, never lets the weight of any blow bring him down. Except that final blow, the inevitable one, but even then they always go out like men.

The moment you tell someone else is the moment you become a whiner and the world’s smallest violin starts to play. The truth is, we all have problems; we all go through hardships and pain, and my pain is paradise compared to a lot of people’s and I really have no right to whine at all.

I could die in this bed with him right now, wrapped in his arms and I would never know that I had died.

Just that dwelling and planning is bullshit, you dwell on the past, you can’t move forward. Spend too much time planning for the future and you just push yourself backwards, or you stay stagnant in the same place all your life. Live in the moment, where everything is just right, take your time and limit your bad memories and you’ll get wherever it is you’re going a lot faster and with less bumps in the road along the way.

Our story is over, yes, but our journey isn't, because we'll always live on the edge until the day we die.

I’m starting to get used to this feeling of not caring about anything.

Well, I suppose he’s stuck with you forever then.” “Yes, and forever is a very long time.” He pauses and then says, “Well, for the record, something tells me he wouldn’t have it any other way.