We read because we are essentially alone.

We often reward mediocrity because it is comforting. If they can do it, anyone can do it.

There's nothing wrong with self-improvement, as long as you recognize that at some point you're going to have to accept yourself in all your imperfect glory. What's wrong with liking yourself the way you are?

That's the thing about a great book. Every time you read it, it's different, because you're different. You've changed since the last time you picked it up, things have happened to you.

Sometimes I wonder if, instead of falling madly in love, we should aspire to fall sanely in love. But then, what would be the point?

Beware of those who have never been bored, depressed, or angry. There is something seriously wrong with them.

Why should I bring happiness to those I loathe by obliterating myself, when I can make them miserable just by existing?