...but the truth is that I don't feel like I can carry anyone but myself right now. The streets are empty. I am empty. Or, no--I am full of pain. It's my life that's empty.

Sometimes memory tricks you. Sometimes beauty is best when it's distant.

Self-esteem can be so exhausting. I want to cut my hair, change my clothes, erase the pimple from the near-tip of my nose, and strengthen my upper-arm definition, all in the next hour.

I still felt fondness for her - fondness, that pleasant, detached mix of admiration and sentiment, appreciation and nostalgia.

Measure the hope of that moment, that feeling. Everything else will be measured against it.

You know what happens to girls who loves lost boys? They become lost themselves.

These teenager looks aren't going to last forever, and that there are much better foundation to build a life upon than how attractive you are.