Everything seemed good, but I knew it had the potential to be awful.

What you don't understand, you can make mean anything.

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

If I had a chance with him, I missed it. No, I didn't miss it. I threw it away.

I've always loved brainstorming with other writers, and I consider having my work critiqued a part of that brainstorming.

The main thing I wanted to say, and thankfully it’s what most people say they get out of the book, is simply an acknowledgement that we do affect each other in ways we can’t predict.

Because it may seem like a small role now, but it matters. In the end, everything matters.