Why does it say she has three hundred and twenty friends?" Josh asks. "Who has that many friends?

I hate not knowing what to believe anymore. I hate not knowing what's real.

I’m going to be mentally ill in fifteen years, and that’s why my husband doesn’t want to be around me.

But you can't get away from yourself. You can't decide not to see yourself anymore. You can't decide to turn off the noise in your head.

How in the world was I alone? Because I wanted to be. That's all I can say. It's all that makes sense to me.

Josh will begin disappearing into a future where the only place he and I remain friends is on the Internet.

And it feels strange, almost sad, to walk through ther empty halls. Each step I take sounds so lonely.