You don't need to show off your body to catch a boy's eye. You'd best learn that early on, or you'll be bringing home the worst sort of boy.

He was gone, and she was broken hearted, that was all that mattered.

I wish I were brave, although I try. I work too hard and don't play enough. Too much work ethic, not enough 'fun'.

Love meant something to her, she dreamt of it, thought of it, wrote of it. It was the one thing in life that had eluded her completely.

What intrigues me is the difference in how women experience power, and how men do.

Her writing was her only escape, her only means of survival. It was a respite from a cruel world, despite seemingly comfortable surroundings.

Sometimes, I think one should only live in the present. The past is only a heavy burden to carry with you. And yet... it's so hard to let them go... to forget... to move ahead.