You say you're not special because the world doesn't know about you, but that's an insult to me. I know about you.

I always had this idea that you should never give up a happy middle in the hopes of a happy ending, because there is no such thing as a happy ending. Do you know what I mean? There is so much to lose.

Was it animal pee or human pee? Someone asked. How would I know? What, am I an expert in the study of pee?

Right, except I'm not going to lie to my mom, because what kind of (man) lies to his own mother?

I told myself – as I’ve told myself before – that the body shuts down when the pain gets too bad, that consciousness is temporary, that this will pass. But just like always, I didn’t slip away. I was left on the shore with the waves washing over me, unable to drown.

What is the point of being alive if you don't at least try to do something remarkable?

It seems to me that the great pleasure of human life is not in having an opinion, but rather in learning all the ways you are wrong, and all the nuances you failed to account for, and all the truths that turned out to be not as simple as you once believed. And it seems to me that one of the central pleasures of attending school is that you get to read with really well-informed people who can help welcome you into a complex world stuffed with rich and maddening ambiguity.