There was a difference between people looking at you because they wanted to be like you, and people looking at you because your misfortune brought them one rung higher.

Missed opportunities were never superficial wounds; they cut straight to the bone.

After all, once you know that part of something exists, it stands to reason that the rest of it is somewhere out there, too.

You know, Michael, I used to sit around looking for a way to make sense of what happened, like there was some kind of answer I could find if I just looked hard enough. Then one day I realized that if there had been one, Dave would still be here. And I wondered if this...this feeling that I couldn't figure it all out...was what Dave had been feeling, too.

It's crazy, right? To love someone who's hurt you? It's even crazier to think that someone who hurts you loves you.

maybe there is more to a person than a body and a mind. maybe something else figures into the mix— not a soul, exactly, but a spirit that hints you might one day be greater, stronger than you are now. a promise; a potential.

How do you walk into someone's life again after twenty-eight years? How do you pick up, when you were too young to know where you left off.