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What difference does it make, if you don’t love each other anymore?” “He doesn’t love me anymore. I still love him.”
Tomorrow, I’m doing it, I’m starting a new life, I swear! No, not tomorrow. Tonight!
“I’m never going to fall in love with the idea of someone again. Next time, reality is all I’ll settle for.
The real question is why you’re in love with him in the first place if he makes you so miserable. Unless you’re in love with him because he makes you so miserable . . .”
A broken heart hurts like hell, I know, but it’s better than being so empty you’ve got nothing to cry about.”
At night, Paul became part of an imaginary world where he felt happy, in the company of characters who had become his friends. When he was writing, anything was possible.
The only problem was that, when they were together, he could never find the right words, though words were supposedly his area of expertise—and hers too.
“The important thing is to make a decision,” he said. “Make what decision?” “One that will enable you to live in the present instead of constantly wondering what the future will be like.”
“Why do girls always fall madly in love with men who only make them suffer, while they barely bat an eye at the ones who would move mountains for them?”
Is it the freedom of characters in fiction that we find so inspiring, or the way that freedom transforms them?
“I think the worst part was that I didn’t see it coming—and everyone else did.”
If only heartache were contagious, you would love me as much as I love you.
An angel passed.’ That’s what the French say about a comfortable silence.”
If you really love her, you’ll be able to hear her heart beating . . . somewhere out there.”
