S. E. Hinton

"Mace," I said, struck by a thought, "did you ever think that all those people in those cars have a whole separate story to them, that it's just as important to them as our stuff is to us, and we don't know anything about it. Maybe sometime we'll run across somebody and two years ago they were driving past us on the highway and we never knew it. Like sometimes we meet people and bump off of them and never see them again and we never know why paths cross."

"It was weird being lonesome in a place full of people."

"I remembered what Jamie had said, that love doesn't solve anything. Maybe. But it helps."