If I don't cry while writing a key emotional scene, my gut feeling is it's failed.
You only get one life. It's actually your duty to live it as fully as possible.
You can only actually help someone who wants to be helped.
I will never, ever regret the things I've done. Because most days, all you have are places in your memory that you can go to.
Astonishingly, not all girls get dressed just to please men.
And I don't want to look at you every day, to see you naked,to watch you wandering around the annexe in your crazy dresses and not...not be able to do what I want with you. Oh, Clark,if you had any idea what I want to do to you right now.And I...i can't live with that knowledge. I can't. It's Not who I am. I can't be the kind of man who just...accepts.
I am conscious that knowing me has caused you pain, and grief, and I hope that one day when you are less angry with me and less upset you will see not just that I could only have done the thing that I did, but also that this will help you live a really good life, a better life, than if you hadn’t met me.
You know, you spend your whole life feeling like you don't quite fit in anywhere. And then you walk into a room one day, whether it's at university or an office or some kind of club, and you just go, 'Ah. There they are.' And suddenly you feel at home.
How could you live each day knowing that you were simply whiling away the days until your own death?
Push yourself. Don't Settle. Just live well. Just LIVE.
I chose to believe that God, a benign God, would understand our sufferings and forgive us our trespasses.
I let him know a hurt had been mended in a way that he couldn’t have known, and for that alone there would always be a piece of me indebted to him.
You're going to feel uncomfortable in your new world for a bit. It always does feel strange to be knocked out of your comfort zone.
Some mistakes... Just have greater consequences than others. But you don't have to let the result of one mistake be the thing that defines you. You, Clark, have the choice not to let that happen.
There is a hunger in you. A fearlessness. You just buried it, like most people do.
And it was suddenly very simple: There was no choice.
Because even if the whole world was throwing rocks at you, if you still had your mother or father at your back, you'd be okay.
There is a whole lot more to life than winning.
I thought, briefly, that I would never feel as intensely connected to the world, to another human being, as I did at that moment.
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. That old hangover is just toying with you, working out when to bite.
We are all part of some great cycle, some pattern that it was only God's purpose to understand.
But just as nature abhors a vacuum -- so does the human heart.
He smelt of the sun, as if it had seeped deep into his skin, and I found myself inhaling silently, as if he were something delicious.
She does not want to feel even the faintest temptation to call his mobile number, as she had done obsessively for the first year after his death so she could hear his voice on the answering service. Most days now his loss is a part of her, an awkward weight she carries around, invisible to everyone else, subtly altering the way she moves through the day. But today, the Anniversary of the day he died, is a day when all bets are off.
The thing about being catapulted into a whole new life--or at least, shoved up so hard against someone else's life that you might as well have your face pressed against their window--is that it forces you to rethink your idea of who you are. Or how you might seem to other people.
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