And because I’m so out of control, I can’t help myself. I’m not even mine anymore, I’m yours, and what if you decide that you don’t want me? How could you want me like I want you?

I'd rather be broken than wasted.

If I had an author superpower, I would like to have the ability to stop time for everyone else. I feel like I have to disappear into myself to write books. I go away, into my head, for hours and weeks at a time, and I hate that I miss everything. It's pretty selfish to want to pause other people, isn't it?

It's okay if you're crazy," he said softly. "You don't even know-" "I don't have to know," he said. "I'm rooting for you.

It’s just … everything. There are too many people. And I don’t fit in. I don’t know how to be. Nothing that I’m good at is the sort of thing that matters there. Being smart doesn’t matter—and being good with words. And when those things do matter, it’s only because people want something from me. Not because they want me.

Even if your heart is broken and attacking you, you're still not better off without it.

How do you feel when I smile at you?" he asked - and then he did smile at her, just a little. Not like myself, Cath thought. "Like an idiot," she said softly. "And I never want it to stop.