“Aunt Anne's lips quirked up in a smile. "Life is not a neat equation to be solved," she said. "It's messy and wild and unpredictable. That's the heartbreak of it, but that's also the glory of it.”

“That's the problem with life. It rarely gives you neat decisions wrapped up in shiny paper with a bow on top. Most of the important decisions in life are messy.”

“But I like labels,” she admitted. “They make everything so much clearer.” Her sister Bree always told her she liked things to be wrapped up too neatly, and that part of the point of life was its messiness, its refusal to be wrapped up. Brett always took the advice with a grain of salt—it was probably Bree’s excuse for a messy room, or for breaking up with boys she’d dated without actually telling them.”

“There are parts of his life and personality that are extremely messy, and that's the truth”

“What are you up to?" she asked."Why would you think I'm up to anything?"Her lips pursed before she said, "You wouldn't be you if you weren't up to something."He smiled at that. "I do believe that was a compliment.""It wasn't necessarily intended as such.""But nonetheless," he said mildly, "that's how I choose to take it.”

“Suddenly everything finally made sense because, paradoxically, I finally accepted that it never would make sense. That's life. It's not all wrapped up with a tidy bow - it's crazy and disorganized and unpredictable, and so are the people who live it.”