I'm not really sure which parts of myself are real and which parts are things I've gotten from books.

I wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone in this whole world. I wouldn't hurt them physically or emotionally, how then can people so consistently do it to me? Even my parents treat me like I'm stupid and inferior and ever short. I guess I'll never measure up to anyone's expectations. I surely don't measure up to what I'd like to be.

Why is life so difficult? Why can't we be just ourselves and have everyone accept us the way we are?

Lying - remembering beauty in truth.

I can't believe that I changed so little. I expected to look old and hollow and gray, but I guess it's only me on the inside that has shriveled and deteriorated.

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.

My biggest mistake: not wanting to help myself into thinking I am happy, that change would come about without really trying to change, or wanting to change. Procrastinating about changing. I do want to change.