That is the rule of the Wilds: You must be bigger and stronger and tougher. You must hurt or be hurt.

Live free or die.

Perfection is a promise, and a reassurance that we are not wrong.

He is no longer mine to lose, but the grief is there, a gnawing sense of disbelief.

We wanted the freedom to love. We wanted the freedom to choose. Now we have to fight for it.

And you can't love, not fully, unless you are loved in return.

But maybe happiness isn't in the choosing. Maybe it's in the fiction, in the pretending: that wherever we have ended up is where we intended to be all along.

I don't understand how everything changes, how the layers of your life get buried. Impossible. At some point, at some time, we must all explode.

For a second, I feel a sense of overwhelming grief: for how things change, for the fact that we can never go back. I'm not certain of anything anymore. I don't know what will happen--

This is the past: It drifts, it gathers. If you are not careful, it will bury you.

We are all punished for the lives we have chosen, in one way or another.

In a time of destruction, create something.

People don't deserve the restraint we show by not going into delirium in front of them.

I tell you, money can't build your spire for you. Build it of gold and it would simply sink deeper.

You don’t have to prove something to feel it, to know it exists.

If there is one general law of communication it is that we never communicate as effectively as we think we do.

Clever people master life; the wise illuminate it and create fresh difficulties.

I believe I am a work horse. I believe that that is what our country needs. We need a president who will roll up our sleeves collectively as a nation and tackle the problems that we confront.

I was always fascinated by people who are considered completely normal, because I find them the weirdest of all

People who type with their iPhones on loud are barbarians and probably killers.

The opposite of every great idea is another great idea.