I thought of what my mom had said. "You talk like a man." It was easier to talk like a man than to be one.

The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.

Another secret of the universe: Sometimes pain was like a storm that came out of nowhere. The clearest summer could end in a downpour. Could end in lightning and thunder.

I wondered if my smile was as big as hers. Maybe as big. But not as beautiful.

Water was something he loved, something he respected. He understood its beauty and its dangers. He talked about swimming as if it were a way of life.

I bet you could sometimes find all the mysteries of the universe in someone's hand.

How could I have ever been ashamed of loving Dante Quintana?

The day he came home from the hospital, he cried. I held him. I thought he would never stop.I knew that a part of him would never be the same.They cracked more than his ribs.

You can’t expect to go both ways when you’re driving on a one-way street.

It started to rain and we just sat. Sat and watched the rain in silence.

Everyone was always becoming someone else.Sometimes, when you were older, you became someone younger. And me, I felt old. How can aguy who’s about to turn seventeen feel old?

Certainly, it's important to acknowledge and identify the effects of BPD on your life. It's equally important to realize that it neither dictates who you are nor fixes your destiny.

The future is travelling furiously toward you at incredible speed and will beat you to your destination to surprise you by its resemblance to what you have already seen.

However great your dedication, you never win anything on your own

As I get older, I don't settle. I'd rather tell somebody 'This is what I want-take it or leave it.'

Peace to the shacks! War on the palaces!

The frustrating part of being a movie actor is waiting in your trailer to do two takes of a scene you've prepared for two months.

Each man, therefore, is the entire world, bearing within his genes a memory of all mankind. Or as Leibniz put it: ‘Every living substance is a perpetual living mirror of the universe’

The dearest ambition of a slave is not liberty, but to have a slave of his own.

On me, on me Time and change can heap no more! The painful past with blighting grief Hath left my heart a withered leaf. Time and change can do no more.

Human beings do not like to look squarely into the face of tragedy. Gloom is unpopular.