It would be a terrible mistake to go through life thinking that people are the sum total of what you see.

I’m living in separate universes, and I have no idea where I actually belong.

And even if you didn't fall in love in the eighties, in your mind it will feel like the eighties, all innocent and airbrushed, with bright colors and shoulder pads and Pat Benetar or the Cure on the soundtrack.

We are all smiling in the picture, three brothers having a grand old time just playing around in the living room, no agendas, no buried resentments or permanent scars. Even under the best of circumstances, there's just something so damn tragic about growing up.

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

There are no happy endings, just happy days, happy moments. The only real ending is death, and trust me, no one dies happy. And the price of not dying is that things change all the time, and the only thing you can count on is that there's not a thing you can do about it.

...you realize that you don't understand yourself any better than you understand anyone else.