Remember, you didn’t come here to write your heart out. You came to write it in.
This is my body. It is no one's but mine.
My heart is a parachute that has never opened in time.
I know a thousand things louder than a soldier's gun; I know the heartbeat of his mother.
We all have different reasons for forgetting to breathe.
...And for every day you paint the war, take a week and paint the beauty, the color, the shape of the landscape you’re marching towards. Everyone knows what you’re against; show them what you’re for.