“I melted easily into him once again—our homework still lying on the floor forgotten and neither of us seemed too inclined to start it again. Too bad we didn’t have a class on physical anatomy together, then maybe we could’ve passed this off as studying.”

“we all have stories we tell ourselves. We tell ourselves we are too fat, too ugly, or too old, or too foolish. We tell ourselves these stories because they allow us to excuse our actions, and they allow us to pass off the responsibility for things we have done-maybe to something within our control, but anything other than the decisions we have made.”

“You’re never too old, never too bad, never too late and never too sick to start from the scratch once again.”

“A journey, after all, neither begins in the instant we set out, nor ends when we have reached our door step once again. It starts much earlier and is really never over, because the film of memory continues running on inside of us long after we have come to a physical standstill. Indeed, there exists something like a contagion of travel, and the disease is essentially incurable.”

“We never have that kind of fun now. Thinking of that made me sad. I hope we can have fun again sometime. I found out that I still know how. Maybe you still know how too.”

“Never too old, never too sick, never too bad to start again.”