Suicide is very contagious.

I'm living the life I love, I tell myself, and loving the life I live. I tell myself: I deserved this. This is exactly what I wanted.

Hey, even the Mona Lisa is falling apart.

Any 'artist' makes a living by expressing what others can't - because they're unaware of their feelings, they're too afraid to express those feelings, or they lack the skills to communicate and be understood.

Every time we burn a gallon of gas or an acre of rain forest, aren't we killing the future to preserve the present?

The damaged loves the damaged.

To repeat, the way you get to the huge, impossible yes is, you start collecting a lot of easy, small yeses.