“Anyway, what does mad mean exactly?" Rami added quickly "Aren't we all a little mad? Don't we have to be somehat mad just to go on living, to go on hoping?”

“But I don't want to be fine, not if it means she's going to let go of my hand; not if it means we're going to go back to being polite strangers.”

“At what point does a fly give up trying to escape through a closed window–do its survival instincts keep it going until it is physicaly capable of no more,or does it eventualy learn after one crash too many that there is no way out? At what point do you decide that enough is enough?”

“I mean, at the end of the day, what the hell does it matter who I end up with if it can't be you?”

“Any guy, even imaginary, would just feel like second best. Second best to what? I don't even have an image of the perfect boyfriend. I just know he must exist. Because I have all these feelings-love, longing, wanting to be touched, dreaming of being kissed-yet no one to focus them on.”

“I might appear confident and chatty, but I spend most of my time laughing at jokes I don't find funny, saying things I don't really mean - because at the end of the day that's what we're all trying to do: fit in, one way or another, desperately trying to pretend we're all the same.”

“I feel like I'm going crazy: seeing you every day but never being able to - to hold you, to touch you when anyone else is around. i just want to take your hand, kiss you, hug you, without having to hide all the time. All those things every other couple takes for granted!”