Gayle Forman

But sometimes the memories feel so real, so visceral, so personal, that I confuse them with my own.

Sometimes you make choices in life, and sometimes choices make you.

It's just one day, one twenty-four-hour period to get yourself through. - Adam

[My parents] always seemed less like lovebirds than like amiable business partners, for whom I'm the sole product.

...Sleepovers and dance parties and those talks we would have until three in the morning that would make us feel lousy the next day because we__ slept like hell but also feel good because the talks were like blood transfusions, moments of realness and hope that were pinpricks of light in the dark fabric of small-town life.

Adam's lips are set in a grime line. I can't tell if he's about to cry or about to punch the guard. For his sake, I hope it's the former. For you own, I hope the latter.

We are born in one day. We die in one day. We can change in one day. And we can fall in love in one day. Anything can happen in just one day.

You can't undo loss. You can't unmake a mistake. (What The Hell Have You Done, Sophie Roth?)

My chips are all cashed out. There's nothing to lose. Or maybe I've already lost it and found it, and whatever else there might be to lose...

How is it possible that a boyfriend ceases to exist from one day to another?

Losing me will hurt; it will be the kind of pain that won't feel real at first, and when it does, it will take her breath away.

I'm not sure if the question's rhetorical or if she thinks I have a clue to her metaphysical mystery. And I'm in no state to answer either way because I'm crying. I don't realize it till I taste the sale against my lips. I can't remember the last time I've cried but, once I accept the mortification of sniveling like a baby, the floodgates open and I'm sobbing now, in front of Mia. In front of the whole damn world.

I want to undo this. To make it right. But I have no idea how. I don't seem to know how to open up to people without getting the door slammed in my face. So I do nothing.

Forgivenesss: It's a miracle drug. It's God's miracle drug.

It's just accidental, just temporary. Until the next accident sends me somewhere new. That's how life works.

But then one time, you track down an email address and you're near a computer with Internet access so you don't have that nice cushion and you type what you're feeling and press send before you have a chance to talk yourself out of it. And then you wait, and wait, and wait, and nothing comes back, so all those things you thought were so important to say, really, they weren't. They weren't worth saying at all.

...being Lulu, it made me realize that all my life I've been living in a small, square room, with no windows and no doors. And I was fine. I was happy, even. I thought. Then someone came along and showed me there was a door in the room. One that I'd never even seen before. Then he opened it for me. Held my hand as I walked through it. And for one perfect day, I was on the other side. I was somewhere else. Someone else. And then he was gone, and I was thrown back into my little room. And now, no matter what I do, I can't seem to find that door.

Stains are even worse when you're the only one who can see them.