I am doing something I hate for you. This is what it means to be in love. - Jonathan Safran Foer

I wanted to cry but I didn't, I probably should have cried, I should have drowned us there in the room ending our suffering.

It broke my heart into more pieces than my heart was made of, why can't people say what they mean at the time? (p. 279)

I never thought about things at all, everything changed, the distance that wedged itself between me and my happiness wasn't the world, it wasn't the bombs and burning buildings, it was me, my thinking, my cancer of never letting go, is ignorance bliss, I don't know, but it's so painful to think, and tell me, what did thinking ever do for me, to what great place did thinking ever bring me? I think and think and think, I've thought myself out of happiness one million times, but never once into it. (p. 17)