I think I'm too lazy a writer to do something like historical fiction. You have to do so much research. I just write what I know.

He's getting dumped. And he doesn't even know it yet. He's probably eating a cheeseburger or flossing or picking up his dry cleaning, and he has no idea. No inkling.

I have to admit, an unrequited love is so much better than a real one. I mean, it's perfect... As long as something is never even started, you never have to worry about it ending. It has endless potential.

Total commitment. You know, the idea of discovering something that, for all intents and purposes, goes against your abilities, and yet still deciding to do it anyway. That takes guts, you know?

There's this other half of him I don't know of, it's like he is trying to keep it a secret... if he would just let me inside so I can help.

The fate of your heart is your choice and no one else gets a vote

I wondered again why the right thing always seemed to be met with so much resistance, when you'd think it would be the easier path. You had to fight to be virtuous.