You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, old man, but you do have some say in who hurts you.

Thinking you won’t die is yet another side effect of dying.)

I thought about how wonderfully strange it would be to live in a place where almost everything had been built by the dead.

It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.”

The dead are visible only in the terrible lidless eye of memory. The living, thank heaven, retain the ability to surprise and to disappoint.

cross, and never was Shakespeare more wrong than when he had Cassius note, “The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars / But in ourselves.” Easy enough to say when you’re a Roman nobleman (or Shakespeare!), but there is no shortage of fault to be found amid our stars.

“Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom. And in freedom, most people find sin.”

You have a choice in this world, I believe, about how to tell sad stories, and we made the funny choice:

“I’m in love with you, and I’m not in the business of denying myself the simple pleasure of saying true things. I’m in love with you, and I know that love is just a shout into the void, and that oblivion is inevitable, and that we’re all doomed and that there will come a day when all our labor has been returned to dust, and I know the sun will