And even if somebody else has it much worse, that doesn't really change the fact that you have what you have. Good and bad.

I wonder what it will be like when I leave this place.

They are all my favourites. All of them.

I can see it. This one moment when you know you’re not a sad story. You’re alive. And you stand up and see the lights and the buildings and everything that makes you wonder. And you’re listening to that song in that drive with the people you love most in this world. And in this moment I swear… we are infinite.

Patrick actually used to be popular before Sam bought him some good music.

I sat down and tried to write a story. "Ian MacArthur is a wonderful sweet fellow who wears glasses and peers out of them with delight." That was the first sentence. The problem was that I just couldn't think of the next one. After cleaning my room three times, I decided to leave Ian alone for a while because I was starting to get mad at him.

we are all supposed to think of reasons to live.