“How can you ricochet from a moment where you are on top of the world to one where you are crawling at rock bottom”

“You can widen the feet of a compass, but they are still attached at the top; you can spin them away from each other, but you always wind up where you started.”

“It felt like I'd been living underground, and for a moment, I'd been given this glimpse of the sky. Once you've seen that, how can you go back where you came from?”

“Where you come from does matter -- but not nearly as much as where you are headed.”

“What if it turns out that a life isn’t defined by who you belong to or where you came from, by what you wished for or whom you’ve lost, but instead by the moments you spend getting from each of these places to the next?”

“You know how every now and then, you have a moment where your whole life stretches out ahead of you like a forked road, and even as you choose one gritty path you've got your eyes on the other the whole time, certain that you're making a mistake.”

“May be there are entire worlds where there are no fences, where feeling bears you like a tide.”