“It's shocking the things we call love.”

“It doesn't matter if we're young. If you love someone, and it's right...We can make it the whole way, Crick.”

“What’s that about? Love must be more about power than we think, if even in its most intimate moment of expression we think about not being the one who risks the most.”

“It's strange, isn't it, how the idea of belonging to someone can sound so great? It can be comforting, the way it makes things decided. We like the thought of being held, until it's too tight. We like that certainty, until it means there's no way out. And we like being his, until we realize we're not ours anymore.”

“Love." She looked at me with those blue eyes. "Isn't it astonishing how confused and complicated such a small,simple word is? It attracts so many other things, doesn't it, that stick to it like barnacles on rock...fear, guilt. Need. You can't even see the rock anymore. I imagine love in its purest form is a rare thing.”

“she wonders if we feel more regret for the things we do or for the things we didn't do”

“The most basic and somehow forgettable thing is this: Love is not pain. Love is goodness.”