“A friend once told me that she understood pity as 'I'm sorry for you', whereas compassion is 'I feel your pain because I see that you could be me and I could be you'.”

“I lied, and I'm so sorry—sorry because I hurt you, sorry because it was a worthless effort. Sorry that I couldn't protect you from what I am. I lied to save you, and it didn't work. I'm sorry.But how could you believe me? After all the thousand times I've told you I love you, how could you let one word break your faith in me?”I didn't answer. I was too shocked to form a rational response.“I could see it in your eyes, that you honestly believed that I didn't want you anymore. The most absurd, ridiculous concept—as if there were any way that I could exist without needing you!”

“One day when I was fourteen, I told Charlie that I hated Mother. “Don’t hate her, Jo,” he told me. “Feel sorry for her. She’s not near as smart as you. She wasn’t born with your compass, so she wanders around, bumping into all sorts of walls. That’s sad.” I understood what he meant, and it made me see Mother differently. But wasn’t there some sort of rule that said parents had to be smarter than their kids? It didn’t seem fair.”

“I'm sorry I ruined your homecoming."He kissed me once more and then shook his head. "The only thing that could ruin this is not being with you.”

“Ruby: How nice for you all. How is the wonderfully helpful Ursula?Rosie: Wonderfully helpful. Yesterday she told me I had problems discussingmy feelings.Ruby: And?Rosie: And I told her that made me feel angry and that she could go fuckherself.Ruby: Well expressed.Rosie: Thank you. I don’t see where there was a problem, I successfullyexplained how I felt and she clearly understood what I meant. Noproblems . . .”

“I'm sorry that you are hurting. It’s because of me that you are even here in the first place. I offered to get those passes so I could get to know you. There is something about you that feels so comforting and familiar, and I’m not sure why.”