“She wouldn't come back. She hated me. She hated Nan. She hated my mom. She hated her father. She wouldn't come back here... but God, I wanted her to.”

“The rhythm of her conversation. The perfection of her creation. The sex she slipped into my coffee. The way she felt when she first saw me. Hate to love and love to hate her. Like a broken record player. Back and forth and here and gone and on and on and on and on...”

“I knew then that Jocelyn would never come back to me, because of you. You are the only thing in the world she ever loved more than she loved me. And because of that she hates me. And because of that, I hate the sight of you”

“She hated her job the same way I hated my jobs because she knew she was worth more, but she also hated herself so there wasn't much point in trying to do better.”

“She was plain and far from skinny or petite. As for parties...she'd rather be alone in a corner somewhere reading. She hated being nice to people she didn't like because her father wanted contributions. She hated being fake. All she wanted was to be herself.”

“She hated the predictability of herself, but knew life probably wouldn't be long enough for her to grow out of it.”