how can you be true and kind at the same time? how?

I went to the bathroom and threw some water on my face, combed my hair. If I could only comb that face, I thought, but I can't.

To experience real agony is something hard to write about, impossible to understand while it grips you; you're frightened out of your wits, can’t sit still, move, or even go decently insane.

What good are you? What can you do? It has cost me a thousands of dollars to raise you, feed you, clothe you! Suppose I left you here on the street? Then what would you do?" "Catch butterflies

Can you remember who you were, before the world told you who you should be?

there are so many days when living stops and pulls up and sits and waits like a train on the rails.

It was better for me when I could imagine greatness in others, even if it wasn't always there.