He came third in the state for woodwork,” Francesca explains. “We actually had to be proud of him for a whole week. Tough times.

What’s the difference between a trip and a journey?" "Narnie, my love, when we get there, you’ll understand.

What do you want from me?" he asks. What I want from every person in my life, I want to tell him. More.

Hold my hand because I might disappear.

But grief makes a monster out of us sometimes . . . and sometimes you say and do things to the people you love that you can't forgive yourself for.

Do you think people have noticed that I'm around?" "I notice when you're not. Does that count?

No," I say, looking up at Griggs. "It's actually because my heart belongs to someone else." And if I could bottle the look on his face, I'd keep it by my bedside for the rest of my life.

The truth doesn't set you free, you know. It makes you feel awkward and embarrassed and defenseless and red in the face and horrified and petrified and vulnerable.

I think if I'm ever asked to recall what Year 12 was all about, I'll remember it as one big cappuccino experience.

It's like you have a plan and someone comes along and makes you want to change it all, but you still like your first plan, no matter how fantastic the second one makes you feel.

Maybe memories should be left the way they are.

I have associated myself with failed scientists in order to associate myself with failed irony. ("Metier: Why I Don't Write Like Franz Kafka")

The best form of flattery is to be admired, imitated or respected. I've always felt proud our fans look up to us or feel we are inspirational.

Genius is nothing more than common faculties refined to a greater intensity. There are no astonishing ways of doing astonishing things. All astonishing things are done by ordinary materials.

In order to be successful, you have to make sure that being rejected doesn’t bother you at all.

How much courage does it take for Dean to throw red meat to the party faithful?

Seek ye counsel of the aged for their eyes have looked on the faces of the years and their ears have hardened to the voices of Life. Even if their counsel is displeasing to you, pay heed to them.

Good novels are not written, they are rewritten. Great novels are diamonds mined from layered rewrites.

Logic is the procession or proportionate unfolding of the intuition; but its virtue is as silent method; the moment it would appear as propositions, and have a separate value, it is worthless.

It is quite possible for the vulgar to be funny, but to succeed, it must rise to a certain genius.

Technology alone is not enough.