Sometimes pain is so unmanageable that the idea of spending another day with it seems impossible. Other times pain acts as a compass to help you get through the messier tunnels of growing up. But the pain can only help you find happiness if you can remember it.

Every universe I’ve created lately, your face keeps popping up in it. And I thought that if you can’t be cool with that, then I wouldn’t hate you, but I might need some time for myself until we’ve had enough distance that I can imagine made-up worlds without you automatically appearing.

I’d give in to the grief but make sure I wasn’t loud enough to draw attention from those who think words will make me feel better.

Then there’s the kind of zombie I’ve become now: the one who has lost everything—his brain, his heart, his light, his direction. He wanders the world, bumping into this, tripping over that, but keeps going and going. That is life after death.

But hey, if there’s one bright side to your dying, it’s that you aren’t around to tell me things I don’t like hearing. I’m sorry. That was a dickhead thing to say. I need a condom for my mouth.

Puzzles are sort of like life because you can mess up and rebuild later, and you're likely smarter the next time around.

Yes, we live, or we're given the chance to, at least, but sometimes living is hard and complicated because of fear.

I guess I could call this energy freedom. No one will be around to judge me tomorrow. No one will send messages to his friends about the lame kid who had no rhythm. And in this moment, how stupid it is to care hits me like a punch to the face.

No matter how we choose to live, we both die at the end.

I've spent years living safely to secure a longer life, and look where that's gotten me. I'm at the finish line but I never ran the race.

I look up, and Jackson's eyes find mine. For a second, it almost feels like we're about to race into the hole to join you. Being buried alive has got to be better than whatever comes next.

Memories: some can be sucker punching, others carry you forward; some stay with you forever, others you forget on your own. You can’t really know which ones you’ll survive if you don’t stay on the battlefield, bad times shooting at you like bullets. But if you’re lucky, you’ll have plenty of good times to shield you.

I would do my damn best to be more happy than not.

I think we’re already dead, dude. Not everyone, just Deckers. The whole Death-Cast thing seems too fantasy to be true. Knowing when our last day is going down so we can live it right? Straight-up fantasy. The first afterlife kicks off when Death-Cast tells us to live out our day knowing it’s our last; that way we’ll take full advantage of it, thinking we’re still alive. Then we enter the next and final afterlife without any regrets

No one goes on, but what we leave behind keeps us alive for someone else.

Every universe I’ve created lately, your face keeps popping up in it.

There’s got to be some scientific study somewhere that proves your boyfriend’s sweater will keep you warmer and cure you of any illnesses a lot faster, than some Pottery Barn blanket.

Everyone plays a purpose, even fathers who lie to you or leave you behind. Time takes care of all that pain so if someone derails you, it'll be okay eventually.

I'm blown away by how happy you make me. Thank you for being there for me when I'm stupid enough to think I'd rather be alone.

Entire lives aren’t lessons, but there are lessons in lives.