I realized I was afraid of living without him. How is it you have the right to destroy my life, I wanted to demand of him, but I’m not allowed a say in yours? But I had promised.

Because even if the whole world was throwing rocks at you, if you still had your mother or father at your back, you'd be okay.

I just... want to be a man who has been to a concert with a girl in a red dress. Just for a few minutes more.

I frowned at the list. “So… I’ll go back and tell the Traynors that I’m going to get their suicidal quadriplegic son drunk, spend their money on strippers and lap dancers, and then trundle him off to the Disability Olympics—

If I don't cry while writing a key emotional scene, my gut feeling is it's failed.

You can only actually help someone who wants to be helped.

I could hear her babbling away beside me, but I wasn't really paying attention. I could barely focus on anything. My nerve endings seemed to have come alive; they almost jangled with anticipation I was going to see Will. Whatever else, I had that. I could almost feel the miles between us shrinking, as if we were at two ends of some invisible elastic thread.