Things that break - be they bones, hearts, or promises - can be put back together but will never really be whole.

The optimist in me wants to believe sexuality will eventually become like handwriting: there’s no right way and wrong way to do it. We’re all just wired differently. It's also worth noting that when you meet someone, you never bother to ask if he’s right or left-handed. After all: does it really matter to anyone other than the person holding the pen?

Maybe the reason I've never died in this story is that I've never had something worth dying for before.

I don't believe in writer's block. Think about it - when you were blocked in college and had to write a paper, didn't it always manage to fix itself the night before the paper was due? Writer's block is having too much time on your hands.

May I ask you something?" I say. "Why do you read books, when you could be outside, living a million different adventures every day?" "Because you can always count on a book to stay the same. EVerything else changes when you least expect it," she replies, bitter. "Families split apart, and nothing's forever. In books, you always know what's coming next. There are no surprises.

To me gay rights is the last civil right that we have not granted in America and I think it's an enormous embarrassment.

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.