It is so strange, to encounter an ex. It's as if you're in a foreign film, and what you're saying face-to-face has nothing to do with the subtitles flowing beneath you. We are so careful not to touch, although once upon a time, I slept plastered to him in our bed, like lichen on a rock. We are two strangers who knows every shameful secret, every hidden freckle, every fatal flaw in each other.

You’ll tell yourself anything you have to, to pretend that you’re still the one in control.

Happiness is what you choose to remember.

I knew that somewhere God was laughing. He had taken the other half of my heart, the one person who knew me better than I knew myself, and He had done what nothing else could do. By bringing us together, He had set into motion the one thing that could tear us apart.

When I think about writers who use fiction as social commentary and to raise social awareness but who are also very popular, I think of Dickens.

Hopefully, more and more people will come to understand that a child who's "different from" is not one who is "lesser than."

He’s not your typical prince, more like a square peg in a round hole, kind of like me. He’s the sort of guy who wouldn’t mind reading side by side on a date.