A life isn't measured in hours and minutes. It's the quality, not the length.

In truth, she hadn't put much thought into whether she was happy before. She supposes that since she never thought about it, she must have been happy. People who are happy don't really need to ask themselves if they are happy or not, do they? They just are happy, she thinks.

Saying you're through with romance is like saying you're done with living, Betty. Life is better with a little romance, you know.

We read to know we’re not alone. We read because we are alone. We read and we are not alone. We are not alone.

Everything worth loving in this world is difficult.

On Earth, Liz was constantly occupied with studying and finding a college and a career and all those other things that the adults in her life deemed terribly important. Since she had died, everything she was doing on Earth had seemed entirely meaningless. From Liz's point of view, the question of what her life would be was now definitively answered. The story of her life is short and pointless: There once was a girl who got hit by a car and died. The end.

There's a difference between being alive and living.

...but what, in this life, is more personal than books?

But I believe good things happen everyday. I believe good things happen even when bad things happen. And I believe on a happy day like today, we can still feel a little sad. And that's life, isn't it?