Happy people are rarely interesting.

Well you can't believe everything you read. After all, by definition, fiction writers lie for a living.

Yesterday you asked me what the purpose of life is. I've thought about that ever since. I think it's to do good no matter what life throws at you, to not let the pain turn you bitter. It's something we have to learn, something we have to make ourselves become...Little kids don't have to learn it. They already know.

I've pursued dreams and achieved them, but I don't think anybody should think their life is incomplete if they don't follow some dream. Happiness doesn't come from achievements, or money, or any sort of treasure. Happiness is a frame of mind, not a destination. It's appreciating what you've got and building relationships with those around you.

What was God thinking when he created a guy this handsome? He wasn't a gift to womankind, he was a torture device.

Aren't fairy godmothers supposed to be nice and make you feel better about yourself? ...No, you're confusing fairy godmothers with sales clerks.

Perhaps I wasn't going crazy after all. Perhaps I was just becoming a writer.