When you get older you think of sadness in a different way. You don’t judge it so harshly.

Her changing perception of time had altered the sum of her reflections.

I wondered who would teach me, or if a boy could learn on his won, what it means to be a man.

Resilience, thy name is Devine.

There will be sway.

My father used to say there are two kinds of people. The notices and the noticed.

The beach was empty and dark but she couldn’t hear her fear over the call of the surf.

I was three inches taller but he could smell my fear.

Art isn’t a product. It’s an experience

When you get older, you think of sadness in a different way. You don’t judge it so harshly.

The most successful people in the most impossible situations are the ones that are sure they’re gonna get out of it, and they go on thinking that, even if they die trying.

Write,’ she said, ‘as if you’ll never be read. That way you’ll be sure to tell the truth.

You’re so dehydrated I can hear you blink.

If heaven is tolerant and writers are allowed (bunch of liars though they are), I wonder if they gather for coffee to ponder the prose they should have written instead.

Regrets serve their purpose. You’ll see.