“I think you want very much to make this black and white--to make us all out to be sinners or saints. But it's just not that simple. I think what you need to accept is that, just maybe, we're all something else. Maybe we're all something in between.”

“Maybe I don't need a relationship after all, she thought. Maybe thinking about these conversations was just as good as having them. She could sit in her Honda in the dark and experience whatever kind of life she wanted. Sometimes you think, Hey, maybe there's something else out there. But there really isn't. This is what being alive feels like, you know? The place doesn't matter. You just live.”

“People don't understand us. They don't understand me. They think it's so black and white, that he makes me miserable and that I should be with someone else and that I deserve something else. But it's not black and white at all. It's gray. It's a never ending world of gray.”

“You can't know what difference you'll make, but you are part of something. I think so. We all have things we're meant to do. People we're meant to care about. We're all meant to matter.”

“Sometimes I just wonder what constitutes a really exciting life. Maybe we're all just lost souls looking for something that simply doesn't exist?”

“I think that we're all mentally ill. Those of us outside the asylums only hide it a little better - and maybe not all that much better after all.”