There is a blessing in losing the one we love. It's the blessing of self-transformation. You don't have to who you were anymore. You've struggled. And now you can change. It doesn't mean that bits of that person won't cling to you, they will throughout your life, but they are now subsumed into something greater. That person has given you, in fact, the most important blessing, which is they gave you the blessing of transforming your soul into something better, something more beautiful.

Let me tell you something: when you dance, you are the greatest dancer who has ever lived. And when you sing, you will have the courage to raise your voice to the heavens, knowing that you may never get an answer.

I think that's the function of a lot of psychiatrists and therapists, is keeping people afloat just long enough for them to get older.

I like the cuts - they comfort me - I can't lie.

Time heals all wounds. And if it doesn't, you name them something other than wounds and agree to let them stay.

Are you mine?” Yes. “Are you mine?” Yes. “Are you mine?” No. “No?” No. I loved being yours. But now I’m mine, which is all I ever was, in the end.

Every fear, every night terror, every hour I cried for Liev, every fight with Sebastian is registered as a neat white scar.