I’m not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I’ve gotten from books.

She didn’t know whether she was running away from something or running to something, but she admitted that deep in her heart she wanted to go home.

one day I’ll be old, without ever having really been young

Nobody’s talking to me, but nobody’s hassling me either. I guess you can’t have everything.

It’s a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would be a gory, blood-smeared earth.

I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Maybe Lewis G Carroll was on drugs too.

I’m afraid to hope but I can’t help it, and the idea of hoping in this most hopeless of all places makes me want to cry.

I looked at sky this morning and realized summer is almost gone which really made me sad because it doesn’t seem as though its been here at all.