“You, Clark, have the choice not to let that happen.”

I frowned at the list. “So… I’ll go back and tell the Traynors that I’m going to get their suicidal quadriplegic son drunk, spend their money on strippers and lap dancers, and then trundle him off to the Disability Olympics-

… if you’re going to wear a dress like that you need to wear it with confidence. You need to fill it out mentally as well as physically.

I just tried to be, tried to absorb the man I loved through osmosis, tried to imprint what I had left of him on myself. I did not speak.

Sometimes, she realizes suddenly, it is simply a matter of blind faith.

Sometimes when you get hammered till the small hours you feel pretty good in the morning, but really it’s just because you’re still a bit drunk.

When you put someone down all the time, eventually they stop listening to the sensible stuff.

You all expect to live the lives you chose. Especially a successful young man like yourself. But it takes time.

I’m not going to try and change you mind.” “If you’re here, you accept it’s my choice. This is the first thing I’ve been in control of since the accident.” “I know.” And there it was. He knew it, and I knew it.

I thought the world had actually ended. I thought nothing good could ever happen again.

You make me happy, even when you’re awful. I would rather be with you – even the you that you seem to think is diminished – than with anyone else in the world.

How is it possible to exist with so much pain?

“You cut yourself off from all sorts of experiences because you tell yourself you are ‘not that sort of person'” “But, I’m not.” “How do you know?

All that counts is the truth. Without it you’re basically just juggling people’s daft ideas.

Push yourself. Don’t Settle. Just live well. Just LIVE.

Sometimes, Clark, you are pretty much the only thing that makes me want to get up in the morning.

You can only actually help someone who wants to be helped.