It's the child who's supposed to cry, and the mom who makes it all better, not the other way around, which is why mothers will move heaven and earth to hold it together in front of their own kids.

love doesn't follow the rules... nothing is worth having so much as something unattainable.

You didn't get past something like that, you go through it -- and for that reason alone, I understood more about her than she ever would have guessed.

Fiction allows for moral questioning, but through the back door. Personally, I like books that make you think - books you're still wondering about three days after you finish them; books you hand to a friend and say "Read this, so we can talk about it."

What is right, in the end, is not always what it seems to be, and some rules are better broken.

Because hate's just the flip side of love. Like heads and tails on a dime. If you don't know what it feels like to love someone, how would you know what hate is? One can't exist without the other.

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