I can do it, Max. I still have my thoughts. I just can’t say them out loud. I still have my friends. I just can’t show them. I still have all the things that used...

Living with hope is like rubbing up against a cheese grater. It keeps taking slices off you until there’s so little left you just crumble.

…it saddens me that she has to grow up and make friends with humans. I hear the future coming for her. Stomp, stomp, stomp.