In school, the year was the marker. Fifth grade. Senior year of high school. Sophomore year of college. Then after, the jobs were the marker. That office. This desk. But now that school is over and I've been working at the same place in the same office at the same desk for longer than I can truly believe, I realize: You have become the marker. This is your era. And it's only if it goes on and on that will have to look for other ways to identify the time.

If I'm not telling you something, it's for a reason. Just because you trust me, it doesn't mean I have to automatically trust you. Trust doesn't work like that.

it's gonna hurt because it matters.

I guess it's a choice we make," she said. "What's a choice?" I asked. And she said, "How much of the world we let in.

Every two people cause and intersection. Every person alters the world.

People say that time slips through our fingers like sand. What they don't acknowledge is that some of the sand sticks to the skin. These are memories that will remain, memories of the time when there was still time left.

Every day I am someone else. I am myself-I know I am myself-but I am also someone else. It has always been like this.