“You can't argue with insanity. You can stare at it, gaping and incredulous, but arguing with it is futile.”

“He made a commitment, Eena.” “And you believe this commitment,” she spoke the word detestably, “is more important than true love?” “Yes.” “No,” she stubbornly disagreed. “Yes,” Ian insisted as he put his finger to her lips, preventing her from arguing any further. “Love grows and wanes, Eena, but honor, duty, and commitment, those things are constant and stable. They define who you are.” “They define who you are?” she repeated. “You mean miserable?” “Content,” he retorted. “Lonely,” she argued. “Faithful,” he insisted, his eyes widening to emphasize the importance of the word. “Empty, regretful, and…” “Hopeful,” Ian whispered in her ear. This word caught her off guard. At present, hope was probably all any of them could cling to.”

“When a person boldly declares 'You can't' he might as well add on 'Can you?' knowing that this spoken roadblock only serves to fuel a challenge in naturally stubborn souls.”

“Be nice. And if you can't do that, just don't be mean.”

“Closing your eyes won't make the awfulness go away. It may be that nothing will. But dwelling on it, dreading the evil, playing out the misery in your head - doesn't this feed the monster? You can't close your eyes to life, but you can choose where your gaze lingers.”

“It is said that you can't write without a reader. The opposite holds true as well; you can't read without a writer. But if as a single, creative person you are one in the same, then, well.....problem solved! Great writing is born from that which we personally long to read.”

“I went to bed without reading, instead staring out my window with the curtains drawn, wondering about boys. Why did they behave so oddly? One minute their teasing was relentless, and then bam!― they’d stun you with a thoughtful gesture. Either way, their actions made you want to cry. Maybe that was the intent.”