I used to be embarrassed by my mom, but now I know what she is-she's a hero.

Nobody is perfect, though. We all want everyone to think we are, but perfection is some crazy mythical state that we can never achieve. It is a goal beyond our grasp, always shifting and changing and taunting us, because it knows...it knows we can never reach it.

Astley comes to my side. 'Are you well?' 'No,' I tell him, voice hoarse. 'I am not well. I am broken inside. I am broken almost all-the-way deep, and I don't know...I don't know if I can ever be unbroken, let alone well again'

What we do, our choices, that's what defines us

What I have learned lately is that people deal with death in all sorts of ways. Some of us fight against it, doing everything we can to make it not true. Some of us lose our selves to grief. Some of us lose ourselves to anger.

We all live with our losses. We don't want to, but we can

I am not 'most' and I am not 'people'.