“Is that what I wanted? To be in the middle of something complicated and dramatic? To be a cheerleader for someone else’s romance? Or to have a romance of my own?”

“I think romance is harder in the digital or postdigital age or whatever we’re supposed to call it. Love is harder.”

“You don’t have to know what you want to be. That comes later. But I want you to know what you want to be. That comes later. But I want you to want more than just having a job and muddling through life. I want you to find a passion you believe in strongly enough to risk humiliation and rejection.”

“Can I tell you what I want? I want to stop wanting things I can’t have. I want to stop falling for jerks I don’t need. And I want to stop feeling like an f/ing gooey butter cake somebody left out in the rain.”

“P.S. Nothing personal, but I think this journal assignment is a waste of time. I know I have to do something to make up for all the work I'm missing at school, but I HATE busywork. And that's what this journal thing is. Half the teachers at school assign work they never read. When we get stupid assignments like that, I always write somewhere on my paper "blah blah blah" or "I bet you're not even reading this," are you? or "Give me a sign if you're reading this." They never are.”

“What do people want? Well, you really can’t talk about wants until you talk about needs.”

“For the next thirteen-plus hours, I stared out the window at the passing towns and countryside. All those lives. All those untold stories and private dramas. There was something so beautiful and sad about it. I felt weirdly emotional, like I was running away from home, but also running to a new home.”