You don't reach points in life at which everything is sorted out for us. I believe in endings that should suggest our stories always continue.

My boyfriend's an idiot," I say as soon as he lurches away."A cute idiot," Ally corrects me."That's like saying 'a cute mutant.' Doesn't exist.

I know that the whole point—the only point—is to find the things that matter, and hold on to them, and fight for them, and refuse to let them go.

Like I've been sketched by an amateur artist: if you don't look too closely, it's all right, but start focusing and all the smudges and mistakes become really obvious.

That is the strangest thing about the world: how it looks so different from every point of view.

But maybe you carried your demons with you everywhere, the way you carried your shadow.

There are no happy endings, only breaks in the regular action.