“Every day I like what and who I am less and less,” he whispered more quietly than before,“because I know you wish for a different life. And I cannot give it to you.”

“Before I know it, I'll be thirty and I'll realise that every day I look less like the person I wanted to be when I was fifteen.”

“This is torture, torture, torture.Why is this so hard?? I survived whole days not talking to you before. What happened???I'm not as nice in the world today. I am scowly. I am trying to be good and not fussy, but frankly, this is less fun. And I am getting grumpy about the prospect of many, many more days like this ahead.”

“Emerson, I am trying to live, as you said we must, the examined life. But there are days I wish there was less in my head to examine, not to speak of the busy heart.”

“I spent my life learning to feel less. Every day I felt less. Is that growing old? Or is it something worse? You cannot protect yourself from sadness without protecting yourself from happiness.”

“I find the concept of Hell to be more honest than that of everyday life. In Hell, no one can lie to you, because you already know what to expect for the rest of eternity. Nothing more and nothing less.”