I know how difficult it can be when the image you've had of something doesn't match its reality; when the friend beside you turns into a monster.

If history has a habit of repeating itself, doesn't someone have to stay behind to shout out a warning?

Then Henry speaks again. "Did he do it?" I turn to him slowly. "Does it matter?

Life sometimes gets so bogged down in the details, you forget you are living it.

Often, when the last page is turned, it will haunt you.

Life is not a plot; it's in the details.

We're [parents]) always bluffing, pretending we know best, when most of the time we're just praying we won't screw up too badly.