Here I am, wasting away inside a book I wish I could escape, and all she wants to do is stay in the story. If I could talk to this girl Delilah, I’d ask her why on earth she would ever trade a single second of the world she’s in for the one in which I’m stuck

Part of growing up was learning not to be quite that honest - learning when it was better to lie, rather than to hurt someone with the truth.

if i have gained anything over these months, it is the knowledge there is no starting over - only living with the mistakes you've made. but then, caleb taught me long ago you can't build anything without some sort of foundation. maybe we learn to live our lives by understanding, firsthand, how not to live them.

Maybe honesty is overvalued. What's truly priceless is picking out from a stream of falsehoods the ones you most need to hear.

Scars are just a treasure map for pain you've buried too deep to remember.

Lately, I have been having nightmares, where I'm cut into so many pieces that there isn't enough of me to be put back together.

People have to experience things that terrify them. If they don't, how will they ever come to appreciate safety?