“The teacher, Mrs. Jennings...makes us sit in a circle. An elementary school, duck-duck-goose-style circle. This affords each of us the best possible vantage point for studying, and subsequently dissecting one another. Oh, and getting to know one another,of course. That too.”

“I don't know if I'm okay. It shouldn't be possible to be this close to another person. To let them crawl inside you.”

“We're like mysteries to one another. Maybe if I can solve him and he can solve me, we can explain each other. Maybe that's what I need. Someone to explain me.”

“It's all my fault! Everything is my fault and no one knows it more than me. We're all in hell and I'm the one that put us here.”

“I'd sit in a circle and a bunch of people who'd been through as much shit as I had would look at me like I snuck into the club without paying the cover. And I'd feel like screaming and telling them that I had paid it the same as everyone else in the room, I just didn't feel like waving around my receipt.”

“Just so you know,” I inform him, “one day, I’m going to get tired of sharing your affection with that coffee table and I’m going to make you choose.” “Just so you know,” he mimics me, “I would chop that table up and use it for firewood before I would ever choose anything over you.”

“You didn’t get a choice in what happened to you. Neither didwe. But you have a choice in what happens now. We don’t. You’re the one in control and all we can do is sit on the sidelines and watch, even if youkeep making the wrong calls over and over again.” We’re obviously veering into sports metaphor territory. “We’re not going to force you to doanything you aren’t ready to do. You’ve had enough forced on you. But you have to make a decision about how long you’re going to let this defineyour life.”