Flirting with madness was one thing; when madness started flirting back, it was time to call the whole thing off.

In the end, it’s all a question of balance.

Distance was a dangerous thing, she knew. Distance changed people.

There was no such thing as perfect privacy, life was a perpetual concert-hall recital with a captive audience.

After all, our lives are but a sequence of accidents - a clanking chain of chance events. A string of choices, casual or deliberate, which add up to that one big calamity we call life.

Everyone underestimates their own life. Funny thing is, in the end, all our stories...they're the same. In fact, no matter where you go in the world, there is only one important story: of youth, loss and yearning for redemption. So we tell the same story, over and over. Only the details are different.

…God is a giant quiltmaker. With an infinite variety of designs. And the quilt is grown so big and confusing, the pattern is impossible to see, the squares and diamonds and triangles don’t fit well together anymore, it’s all become meaningless. So He has abandoned it.