I've never understood the division between so-called realists and so-called idealists.

Aurélie had learned from heartbreak that love is not for idealists, but realists; it should always be passionate, but it is always dangerous. That infatuation is a game of power, but love leaves us powerless--and it is our dignity in its aftermath that defines us.

There's a difference between fair game and playing games.

A psychologist once told me that for a boy being in the middle of a conflict between two women is the worst possible situation. There's always a desire to please each one.

Dignity does not come from avenging insults, especially from violence that can never be justified. It comes from taking responsibility and advancing our common humanity.

At the end of the day, you know, love does not happen between two perfect people as much as we would wish.