As You Wish

You’d think I’d be used to this agony by now , but it always catches me off guard. Anyone who says grief fades over time is a fucking liar. It never goes away. It just gets better at hiding. You never know when it’s going to spring out of the shadows and sucker punch you in the gut. Grief is a real asshole.

It’s nice to know someone thinks of you as a person, not an opportunity.

Well, say you only have two choices. You can like red or you can like blue. It’s easy to look at those two colors and decide that, between them, you like red. But when you consider all the colors in the world, then what? You could narrow it down to liking red, but what shade of red? Some of them are practically the same. And some are way different. But they’re all red, so you like them all, because who ever said a person can like just one color and that’s it? But you’re asking me to pick one color and like it for the rest of my life.” “And,” I go on, “every time you talk to someone who’s already picked their color, some adult who’s had their whole life to think about their decision, you know what they say? They regret what they chose. So now they’re stuck their whole life with orange, but they’ve realized orange was a shit color to start with.

Choices, by nature, are not right or wrong. They are only different paths, all ultimately leading to the same end.

When someone dies, it doesn't just take them. It takes a piece of everyone who ever loved them and everyone they ever loved.

Life is full of tough times and hard decisions. But as long as you choose to do the right thing, you’ll be OK.

Being extraordinary is kind of overrated.

Eldon, we all mess up. No one should measure their worth by how often they screw up. What matters most is how a person deals with the aftermath. How they grow and change.

I can be a hero and a villain all in one night.

You can only truly love art if you’ve bled for it.

The whole idea of wishing is screwed up.” “That didn’t stop you from making your wish,” I point out.

Creative individuals can never be lonely. The ideas that live in their heads are constant companions.

It’s only a saying. You don’t need to analyze it.” “That’s the problem with the world. No one wants to analyze anything.

That’s the problem, of course. At least, part of the problem. In Madison, regrets are as commonplace as wishes. And there’s no such thing as do-overs.

Wishing made it a sure thing though." "But who wants a sure thing? Life is about gambles,

Mayor Fontaine is awful and terrifying. But like the rest of us, he's human too.

Hey, Merrill," I shout. When he rolls the window down, I tell him, "Go get the sky." Merrill grins. "You bet I will.