Maybe you didn't know what people thought of you because they themselves didn't know what they thought of you. Maybe you didn't give us enough to go on, Hannah.

But sometimes there’s nothing left to do but move on.

That's what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you're not sure what the poet's talking about. You may have an idea, but you can't be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings.

When you try rescuing someone and discover they can't be reached, why would you ever throw that back in their face?

When you write a book for publication, you're writing it for other people to read.

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

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