I don’t know a perfect person. I only know flawed people who are still worth loving.
The amazing thing is that we’re right to hold onto hope. The world may be broken but hope is not crazy.
Great books help you understand, and they help you feel understood.
…it occurred to me that the voracious ambition of humans is never sated by dreams coming true, because there is always the thought that everything might be done better and again.
Pain is like fabric: The stronger it is, the more it’s worth.
One day, you’re 17 and you’re planning for someday. And then quietly, without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.
You don’t remember what happened. What you remember becomes what happened.
Maybe our favorite quotations say more about us than about the stories and people we’re quoting.
We all use the future to escape the present.
There are always answers. We just have to be smart enough.
The world may be broken, but hope is not crazy.
Every year, many, many stupid people graduate from college. And if they can do it, so can you.
I think inspiration is always around; it’s just a question of whether or not you’re noticing it.
What matters to you defines your mattering.
If you don’t imagine, nothing ever happens at all.
It hurts because it mattered.
Just a word of advice. Whenever you’re furious with your parents or you think they’re terrible, just remember, you vomited on them and they kept you.
You are helpful, and you are loved, and you are forgiven, and you are not alone.
You can love someone so much…But you can never love people as much as you can miss them.
My thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations.
You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world…but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices.
Maybe there is something you’re afraid to say, or someone you’re afraid to love, or somewhere you’re afraid to go. It’s gonna hurt. It’s gonna hurt because it matters.
I love you present tense,” I whispered, and then put my hand on the middle of his chest and said, “It’s okay, Gus. It’s okay. It is. It’s okay, you hear me?” I had—and have—absolutely no confidence that he could hear me. I leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Okay,” I said. “Okay.
…Kaitlyn never wore open-toed shoes on account of how she hated her feet because she felt her second toes were too long, as if the second toe was a window into the soul or something.
What a treacherous thing to believe that a person is more than a person.