She loved mysteries so much, that she became one.

The only way out of the labyrinth of suffering is to forgive

I’m just scared of ghosts, Pudge. And home is full of them.

That didn’t happen, of course. Things never happened the way I imagined them.

It always shocked me when I realized that I wasn’t the only person in the world who thought and felt such strange and awful things.

I was gawky and she was gorgeous and I was hopelessly boring and she was endlessly fascinating. So I walked back to my room and collapsed on the bottom bunk, thinking that if people were rain, I was drizzle and she was hurricane.