Daemon pressed his forehead against mine. "Oh, I still want to strangle you. But I'm insane. You're crazy. Maybe that's why. We just make crazy together.

Memories, even bittersweet ones, are better than nothing.

That kind of love should've been able to beat sickness. That kind of love should've conquered anything.

My heart cracked. Daemon never begged.

Your mail could've waited." Daemon followed me into the kitchen. "What is it? Just books?"Grabbing the OJ from the fridge, I sighed. People who didn't heart books didn't understand.

I understood books. I did not understand boys—especially alien boys.

Strange how something good can come from something horrible.

There were always choices. I’d made a string of bad ones myself. At least I could admit that.

But I'm insane. You're crazy. Maybe that's why, We can just make crazy together.

Now I was nothing but a shade of grey - my moral compass ambiguous.

That's the funny thing about trying to escape. You never really can. Maybe temporarily, but not completely.

We first doubt, to find the truth.

We employ free will to design of our own being and therefore we must accept responsibility for our actions.

Play not with paradoxes. That caustic which you handle in order to scorch others may happen to sear your own fingers and make them dead to the quality of things.

Only on paper has humanity yet achieved glory, beauty, truth, knowledge, virtue, and abiding love.

Seeing through is rarely seeing into.

If I don't have to think about the commercial aspect of it, then I feel like I'm going to make better films.

There is no room for God in him who is full of himself.

Still, one of the few good things about being dyslexic is that when I say I don’t read reviews, I mean I don’t read reviews.

I'd like to think that I'm brave. That's a really wonderful personality trait to have. I would love to think I'm the type of person to go rescue someone.

I like Edward G. Robinson - he started as a character actor and became a lead, which is probably why I like him.