The truth will set you free. Either that or it'll get you a punch in the nose.

I don't think you can call it stalking when it's just phone calls and letters and emails and knocking on the door.

I don't even feel as if I'm the center of my own world, so how am I supposed to feel as though I'm the center of anyone else's?

There were about seventy-nine squillion people in the world, and if you were very lucky, you would end up being loved by fifteen or twenty of them.

I have a really low boredom threshold.

You know that things aren't going well for you when you can't even tell people the simplest fact about your life, just because they'll presume you're asking them to feel sorry for you.

The truth about life was that nothing ever ended until you died, and even then you just left a whole bunch of unresolved narratives behind you.