"This is a great picture of you. This is what you like," I tell her. And it's true. That's the problem: so many things are true. It's true that I want to smother you with compliments and true that I want to keep my distance. True that I want her to like me and true that I don't. The stupid talking, endless truth speaking out of both sides of its big, stupid mouth. It's what keeps me, stupidly talking. "Like, you can't know what you look like, right? Whenever yo see yourself in the mirror, you know you're looking at you, so you can't help but pose a little. So you never really know. But this--that's what you like." (Will Grayson, Will Grayson pg.23)

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