It made me wonder how many times we forgive just because we don't want to lose someone, even if they don't deserve our forgiveness.

You were a stone wall, a fort in high, unreachable trees, an island, my own island, that no boat could reach.

Maybe a person's world can grow bigger in all the right ways, not too wide that it becomes shallow, just large enough to preserve its depth.

Just because it turned out bad, doesn’t mean it wasn’t meant.

But sometimes, too, you have this little feeling of knowing, this fuzzy, gnawing sense that someone will become a major something in your life. You just know that theirs will be a life you will enter and become a part of.

Supposedly there's an actual, researched link between extreme creativity and mental illness, and I believe it because I've seen it with my own eyes.

Maybe it was wrong, or maybe impossible, but I wanted the truth to be one thing. One solid thing.