“I am a writer. Imagining what someone would say or do comes to me as naturally as breathing.”

“The imagination says listen to me. I am your darkest voice. I am your 4 a.m. voice. I am the voice that wakes you up and says this is what I'm afraid of. Do not listen to me at your peril.... The imagination is not our escape. On the contrary, the imagination is the place we are all trying to get to.”

“Would you still love me if I killed someone?” I said nothing. My breath was coming too fast. “I would still love you,” Go said. “Go, do you really need me to say it?” She stayed silent. “I did not kill Amy.” She stayed silent. “Do you believe me?” I asked. “I love you.”

“I didn't want someone who would have to force himself to love me or for me to pretend that I loved him back. I had always hoped that love would be mutually instinctual and natural- as easy as breathing”

“I am going to keep my mind (well, what's left of it) occupied by doing (and I never thought the day would come when I would say this) my homework.”

“Let me put it this way: I am not a bad person, so if there is a god I would hope that he would judge me on what I do and who I am, as against someone that does believe but still doesn’t live a good life.”