You don’t know what it’s like to worry you’ll start to despise the people who help you, the ones you should love, because they’re healthy and you’re not, because they’re kind and you’re this angry, frustrated . . . thing.
He is a principled man, and compassionate, someone who will remind himself of your best qualities while struggling to forgive your worst. In short, he is a friend.
Why do I seem to have this effect on women? They're around me and they cry.
I want everyone to stop telling me to lower my expectations.
I’ve found I still serve a purpose. I remind people to pray, to calculate the odds, to thank the fates, the gods, good karma, whatever it was that made this happen to me and not them. I’m in the worst sort of club. The one no one else wants to be...
We turned into each other’s best excuse for not doing the things we were afraid of.
Someone telling you about the future did not prepare you for it. Nothing prepared you for it.
How long did it take to become a gracious person? One who could accept help and give thanks without being resentful of it?
His voice was everything she equated with home.
The older I get, the less I enjoy the presence of other people.
Sarcasm is wasted on those who haven’t had a decent night’s sleep, my darling.
Haven't you ever wanted something you couldn't have?
