There is no old age. There is, as there always was, just you.
Hate is funny. Love isn't. Love can kill you. Hate can keep you alive.
I did not survive everything. No one ever does. Little pieces of you - sometimes the best of you - get lost in a little lie here, a little joke there. And of course, the aftereffect is the tiny sob - unseen, unheard, deeply felt.
Wars are started by the truth. Peace is proclaimed with lies.
The freedom to make mistakes is the one and only bonus of getting old.
Looking out of a hospital window is different from looking out of any other. Somehow you do not see outside.