It's never something huge that changes everything.
But instead the tiniest details, irrevocably tweaking the balance of the universe while you're busy focusing on the big picture.

I tried to imagine what it would belike to open your door to find something you had given up on.
Maybe it had seen places you never had, been rerouted and passes through so many hands.
But still somehow found it's way back to you.

The trick is never giving more than you were willing to lose.

Like I of all people, didn't know better than to lead a total stranger directly to the point
where they could hurt you the most, knowing how easily they'd be able to find their way back.

Was it really that easy, once you've escaped not to care?

It is important to simply be sought.
Even if you didn't ever want to be found.

Leaving was easy.
It was everything else that was so damn hard.

There is a point when you stand at the edge of a cliff of hard evidence, look across to what lies on the other side, and step forward. Otherwise you wind up going nowhere.

You can't tie the score.
You just have to start over.

If I don't bring forth what's inside me, what's inside me will destroy me.

The birth of a child, the death of a parent, falling in love.
Words are like nets- we hope they'll cover what we mean, but we know they can't possibly hold that much joy, or greif, or wonder.
 If it's happened to you, you know what it feels like. But to try to describe it to someone else, well languge only takes you so far.

When you got right down to it, what was different between me and everyone else in the world was not nearly as profound
as what we had in common.

The hardest thing in the world is believing someone can change.
It's always easier to go along with the way are than to admit you might have been wrong int the first place.

I'm the one who took the most away from her.
So, I have the most to give back.

What other words, we may almost ask.
Are memorable and worthy to repeat that those which love has inspiried?
It is wonderful that they were ever uttered.
They are few and rare, indeed.
But, like a strain of music, they are incessantly repeated and modulated by memory.
All other words rumble off with the stucco which overlies the heart.
We should not dare to repeat these now aloud.
We are not competent to hear them at all times.

You can't exist in the world without leaving a piece of you behind.

I know her well enough to understand that when she pushed you away, i
t was her way of making sure she didn't get shoved first.

I was terrified that if you grew up able to find whatever it was that hollowed out a persons heart, you would wind up feeling just as empty as me.

Sometimes parents don't find what they're looking for in their child.
So they plant seeds for thwat they'd like to grow instead.
We are not, as you'd expect, orchestrating their lives; we are not even trying for a second chance.
We're hoping that if this one takes root, it might take up enough light and space to keep something else from developing
in out children: the disapointment we've already lived.

I was surprised that you seemed to understand that you might never love someone as hard as you had the first time you'd fall in love.
I was even more surprised to learn that maybe you could.

As it turned out, it was a lot easier to say someone deserved to die for what they did than it was to take responsibility to make that happen.

In the space between yes and no, there's a lifetime.
It's the difference between the path you walk and one you leave behind;
It's the gap between who you thought you could be and who you really are;
It's the legroom for the lies you'll tell yourself in the future.

When you're different, sometimes you don't see millions of people who accept you for what you are.
All you notice is the person who doesn't.

Life has a way of pointing out, with great sweeping signs, that you are looking at the wrong things.

You live and let live.
And eventually that becomes enough.

There were things I knew for sure.
That I had loved, once, and was loved back.
That a person could find hope.
The sum of a mans life was not where he wound up.
But in the details that brought him there.

Do you know how, when you are on the verge of a breakdown, the world pounds in your ears, a rush of blood, of consequence?
Do you know how it feels when the truth cuts your tongue to ribbons, and you still have to speak it?

I tried to tell myself that the reason I was crying had nothing to do with the fact that even when I wasn't trying, all I did was let people down.

You have to remind yourself that they will take whatever they can get, because they have nothing.

We couldn't erase our mistakes.
So we did the next best thing and tried to do something that distracted attention from them.

I had become overly comfortable with myself.
So much so that anyone else would have felt like an intrusion.

"I wanted to sit down with each and every one of them. I wanted to show them the note Kurt had written me after our first officail date. I wanted them to touch the soft cotton cap that Elizabeth had worn home from the hospital. I wanted to play them the answering machine message that still had their voices on it, the one I couldnt bear to erase, even though it felt like I was being cut to ribbons every time I heard it. I wanted to take them on a field trip to see Elizabeth's room, with it's Tinker Bell night light and dress up clothes; I wanted them to bury their faces in Kurt's pillow, breathe him in. I wanted them to live my life, because that was the only way they'd know what had been lost"

Maybe I'd get my morals back.
Sometimes I thought I'd only misplaced them.
Set them on top of the fridge or some other spot I never thought to look.

I hated this about myself, the tendency to try something new and, as soon as I had begun, to wonder how to get out of it.

I had always thought of myself as aware and thoughtful, but it had occurred to me that most people believed this of themselves.
Even as they cheated on their lovers and averted their eyes from the homeless.
You could ask a wife beater if he was a good person, and he's probably say yes.

You were always better off not calling.
Why did I never remember that?

I have never been good at facing up to the fact that some things were unfixable.

These conversations had the effect of reminding me how much I still had to learn as well as how much I'd figured out without trying.