I can't do this because I can't...I can't be the man I want to be with you. And that means that this - this just becomes...another reminder of what I am not.

The thing about being catapulted into a whole new life--or at least, shoved up so hard against someone else's life that you might as well have your face pressed against their window--is that it forces you to rethink your idea of who you are. Or how you might seem to other people.

I am conscious that knowing me has caused you pain, and grief, and I hope that one day when you are less angry with me and less upset you will see not just that I could only have done the thing that I did, but also that this will help you live a really good life, a better life, than if you hadn’t met me.

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 held him close and said nothing, all the while telling him silently that he was loved. Oh, but he was loved.

How could you live each day knowing that you were simply whiling away the days until your own death?

... if you're going to wear a dress like that you need to wear it with confidence. You need to fill it out mentally as well as physically.