I don't know whether you can look at your past and find, woven like the hidden symbols on a treasure map, the path that will point to your final destination.

She stares at me for a moment, and then she bursts out laughing. “You haven’t seen his perfect little wife and his perfect little girls. Believe me, Oliver, I’m not the great love of his life, the one he’ll never forget.” “You are to me,” I say.

What we all want, really, is to be loved. That craving drives our worst behavior.

It's certainly my honor to be able to, hopefully, change the world a tiny bit, one mind at a time.

Listen,” she said. “I may not be what you want right now, but I’m all you’ve got.

I loved Alex so much that it was easier to let him hurt me than to watch him hurt himself.

I've always sort of wondered: If everyone else's opinion is what matters, then do you ever really have one of your own?