“Things get to me all the time—I just don’t see the point in making abig deal out of it.”

“I think. Some people are just sad, all of the time. Too sad to deal with—everything. Life, I guess. I don’t know. There doesn’t always have to be a reason.”

“Some people are just sad, all of the time. Too sad to deal with - everything. Life, I guess. I don't know. There doesn't always have to be a reason.”

“You're nothing like your sister," he tells me. "She meant a lot to me, okay? It's true. But the things I like about you have nothing to do with her. You - you are so strong and stubborn it drives me crazy. You're the one going through all this and you still put Laney first every time, instead of throwing yourself the pity party we both know you deserve. You call me out on my shit, and I like that, because sometimes I need someone to call me out on my shit. And you get Johnny Cash, and you take these incredible photos, and everything about you makes me hurt, in a good way, and it blows my mind that someone can be so amazing and not even see it.”

“I don’t want to be so scared all the time. So alone. I want to believe something can be worth it. Worth the pain. Worth the risk.”

“there’s no denying the fact he is really, really good-looking, in this rakish, edgy, badass, I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-and-screw-you-I-don’t-need-a-mirror kind of way.”

“You know, just because you think bubblegum pop on the radio represents all that is wrong with society, that doesn’t mean there’s not someone out there who needs that shitty pop song. Maybe that shitty pop song makes them feel good, about themselves and the world. And as long as that shitty pop song doesn’t infringe upon your rights to rock out to, I don’t know, Subway Sect, or Siouxsie and the Banshees, or whichever old-ass band it is you worship, then who cares?”