If you didn't love him, this never would have happened. But you did. And accepting that love and everything that followed it is part of letting it go.

You didn't have to take a punch for me, you know,' he said. 'I'm a lover, not a fighter.' 'You're a freak is what you are,' I said. He stuck out his hand. 'Come on, slugger. Walk with me. You know you want to.' And the thing was, despite everything I knew-that it was a mistake, that he was different from the others-I did. How he knew that, I had no idea. But I got up and did it anyway.

…It’s not just where you go, but how you choose to get there.

She said writting novels was like childbirth: if you truly remembered how awful it got, you'd never do it again.

True friendship is a promise you keep forever.

The only trick was never giving more that you were willing to lose.

Grieving doesn't make you imperfect. It makes you human.