The only things I regret, and the only things I'll ever regret are things I didn't do. In the end, that's what we mourn. The paths we didn't take. The people we didn't touch.

A novelist is someone who sits around the house all day in his underwear, trying not to smoke.

The trouble with excuses, however, is that they become inevitably difficult to believe after they’ve been used a couple of times.

All I wanted was what I'd already had. That exultation, that love. It was my one real home; I was a visitor everywhere else.

You're all I care about," I said. "No. And me. The person I am when I'm with you, the way I see myself and know myself. That person who lives only when I'm with you.

On a ship thats made of paper, I would sail the seven seas. (Just to be with you)

The only things I regret, and the only things I'll ever regret are things I didn't do. In the end, that's what we mourn. The paths we didn't take. The people we didn't touch.