The book was turned to the page with Anne Frank's name, but what got me about it was the fact that right beneath her name there were four Aron Franks. FOUR. Four Aron Franks without museums, without historical markers, without anyone to mourn them. I silently resolved to remember and pray for the four Aron Franks as long as I was around.

There is always the risk: something is good and good and good and good, then all at once it gets awkward.

me: you know what sucks about love? o.w.g.: what? me: that it's so tied to the truth. I know it sucks, but in a way, it's good....Love and truth being tied together, I mean. They make each other possible, you know?

Talking to a drunk person was like talking to an extremely happy, severely brain-damaged three-year-old.

You can trust that caring, as a rule, ends poorly,” which is true. Caring doesn’t sometimes lead to misery. It always does.

She's cute, I thought, but you don't need to like a girl who treats you like you're ten: You've already got a mom.

But I could always tell in her eyes if she got really pissed at me, and her eyes were still pretty smiley