“For me personally, as much as I don't understand my mom and dad and as much as I feel sorry for them sometimes, I can't help but love them very much.”

“but my dad said it was no excuse."But I love him!" I had never seen my sister cry that much."No, you don't.""I hate you!""No, you don't." My dad can be very calm sometimes."He's my whole world.""Don't ever say that about anyone again. Not even me." That was my mom.”

“Hard, sharp, ticks. I hate them. Measuring thought, infinite space, by cogs and wheels. Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that — I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much — so very much to learn.”

“...I like stories very much,” the priest said. “They help me understand myself better.”

“Can you understand? Someone, somewhere, can you understand me a little, love me a little? For all my despair, for all my ideals, for all that - I love life. But it is hard, and I have so much - so very much to learn.”

“I don't understand my feelings. I really don't. I don't understand how I could hate you so much after so much time. How, no matter how much I'd like to not hate you, I hate you even more. It grows.”