I'm afraid to live and afraid to die.

She didn't know whether she was running away from something or running to something, but she admitted that deep in her heart she wanted to go home.

I would like to stay stoned all the time, it scares me it’s so good. I would like to stay stoned every minute of every day for the rest of my life.

It's a good thing most people bleed on the inside or this would be a gory, blood-smeared earth.

They don’t think “I care,” “I hurt,” or “I have feelings.” It just seems like I’m always “wrong,” always “selfish,” always “self-centered” and everything else that’s negative and destructive.

How is it possible for me to be so miserable and embarrassed and humiliated and beaten an function still talk and smile and concentrate?

This morning when I left Mom's parting words were, "Come straight home after school." Wow! Like I'm going to get stoned at 3:30—it doesn't sound so bad at that.