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

"What if I like watching television? What if I don't want to do much else other than read a book?"... "What if I'm tired when I get home? What if I don't fill my days with frenetic activity?" "But one day you might wish you had."

Real friends were the kind where you pick up where you'd left off, whether it be a week since you'd seen each other or two years.

There are normal hours, and then there are invalid hours, where time stalls and slips, where life---real life---seems to exist at one remove.

Try to write at least 500 words a day. You may ditch 499 of them tomorrow, but you will still be moving forward.

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 will never, ever regret the things I've done. Because most days, all you have are places in your memory that you can go to.