“What’s the meaning of life? Other people.”

I enjoy looking at beautiful people, and I decided a while ago not to deny myself the simpler pleasures of existence

You can love someone so much but you can never love people as much as you can miss them.

You cannot invent an algorithm that is as good at recommending books as a good bookseller.

You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.

The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with.

It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.

The town was paper, but the memories were not.

Everything that comes together falls apart.

You like someone who can’t like you back because unrequited love can be survived in a way that once-requited love cannot.

I ran like a cheetah – well, like a cheetah that smoked too much.

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.

Whatever you’re worried about, you’re bigger than the worries.

Sometimes you lose a battle. But mischief always wins the war.

Not that smart. Not that hot. Not that nice. Not that funny. That’s me: I’m not that.

Books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like a betrayal.

We all use the future to escape the present.

The boundaries which divide Life from Death are at best shadowy and vague. Who shall say where the one ends, and where the other begins?

A life of love is one of continual growth, where the doors and windows of experience are always open to the wonder and magic that life offers. To love is to risk living fully.

Life is uncharted territory. It reveals its story one moment at a time.

Whatever you have, you must either use or lose.

It’s nice to be able to try and build the life you want for yourself.

I love to be in the moment; I love to analyze things a bit.

Everyone fails sometimes and life isn’t supposed to be fair, much less bend to your every whim.

Life is a velvet crowbar hitting you over the head, youre bleeding syrup amour, bleeding to death.