“… Without balance, we’ll destroy ourselves. Being that cold, that ruthless, you’ll become a machine, and machines are easily broken and dismantled.”
(Chapter 1, p. 25)

What was love? A drug? No, love was more like an illness—a beautiful, painful illness that tore at the heart and mind in the best and worst ways. I finally understood what it meant to be love-sick. How many people really experienced love like this? Was it this intense for everyone?
(Chapter 12, pp. 202-03)