“I don't know why they are all so eager to be remembered. What good will it do them? There are some things that should be forgotten by everyone, and never spoken of again.”

“I know now that when the loving, honest moment comes it should be seized, and spoken, because it may never come again. And unvoiced, unmoving, unlived in the things we declare form heart to heart, those true and real feelings wither and crumble in the remembering hand that tries too late to reach for them.”

“Everyone loses faith at some point. Take me for example. I haven't spoken to God since your mother died... But sometimes, you have to stop and remember all the things you do have. You've got to be thankful.”

“There are some things I guess we bury so we can get on with living. I don't think it's wrong, necessarily, just what we do to survive. It's the remembering part that's hard. Some people remember and some never have to. The blessed and the cursed.”

“She looked up. "What I can't figure out is why the good things always end.""Everything ends.""Not some things. Not the bad things. They never go away.""Yes, they do. If you let them, they go away. Not as fast as we'd like sometimes, but they end too. What doesn't end is the way we feel about each other. Even when you're all grown up and somewhere else, you can remember what a good time we had together. Even when you're in the middle of bad things and they never seem to be changing, you can remember me. And I'll remember you.”

“Why can't everyone be treated equally? Forgotten of what they did wrong, but remember their rights? Why can't the whole world just get along?”