At some point, being angry is just another bad habit, like smoking, and you keep poisoning yourself without thinking about it.

Forgiveness has its comforts, but it can never give you back what you've lost.

We're all clichés, all following scripts that have been written and played out long before we landed the role.

Everyone always wants to know how you can tell when it's true love, and the answer is this: when the pain doesn't fade and the scars don't heal, and it's too damned late.

Love made us partners in narcissism, and we talked ceaselessly about how close we were, how perfect our connection was, like we were the first people in history to ever get it exactly right.

Fate already warned us to pack it in. We just didn’t hear it in time.

That's the thing about life; everything feels so permanent, but you can disappear in an instant.