The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves until one day there are none. No hopes. Nothing remains.

No one knows the author of memoir so well like himself.

I will think of you every time I need to be reminded that there is beauty and goodness in the world.

We must use whatever methods we can to understand the movement of the universe around us and time our actions so that we are not fighting the currents, but moving with them.

Yet somehow the thing that startled me most, after a week or two had passed, was that I had in fact survived.

I tried to continue, but somehow my throat made up its mind to swallow – though I can’t think what I was swallowing, unless it was a little knot of emotion I pushed back down because there was no room in my face for any more.

The prettiest of them all is a girl who is pretty on the inside.