You know that saying about how you don't know what you have until it's gone-I already did know what I had, and now that she's gone, I know even more.

"You two would make a cute couple," she says as she passes by with a full dough tray in her arms. I don't know why she says it. We aren't doing anything but folding boxes with the other drivers and telling dirty jokes.But we would.We would make a cute couple.

Only you can allow yourself to be angry.

The simplest answer is to act.

I can't stop myself from reaching for the bottle that's under my seat. I've gone all night without a sip, but it's not about being addicted. It's about being told what to do my whole life and doing it and then losing everything anyway.

You know that saying about how you don't know what you have until it's gone-I already did know what I had, and now that she's gone, I know even more.

How can we say nobody's perfect if there is no perfect to compare to? Perfection implies that there really is a right and wrong way to be. And what type of perfection is the best type? Moral perfection? Aesthetic? Physiological? Mental?