Maybe hell is seeing the lost loved painted over the faces of the strangers we meet.

No one is perfect, no one is flawless, and loving someone means admitting they have faults. It means loving them, not in spite of those flaws, but because of them.

Falling in love is about hormones and pheromones and powerful emotions that overwhelm our better judgement. Staying in love requires time and effort and knowledge and trust that has to be earned over the course of lifetimes. Falling in love is the illusion. Staying in love is the real miracle.

I know we’ve never properly met, so you’ve got no reason to believe me, but I think you’re wrong about love. Love isn’t war. Life is the war; love is a truce you find in the middle of all that violence. And I bet there’s someone out there who loves you, even if you don’t know them yet.

I don't even remember what was so funny; I only remember thinking I'd suffocate before I stopped laughing.

And I stood there and took it because I was an object. We were all objects to Marcus McCoy.

We aren't just defined by who we are, but by who are friends are. It's funny that we put so much importance on something that wont mean shit once we graduate.

She's the gristle stuck between Time's teeth, and I love her for it.

No doesn't mean to Marcus what it means to those without money and a car.