What people don't understand when you've already been a suicide and pulled through is that after the sadness comes fear: Where is my mind going with this? I don't want to die. I do not want to die. When you don't have so much control over your own thoughts, over the myriad voices in your head, you don't know where they could go.

I'm not crazy or dangerous, just a bit eccentric and lonely.

I do think everything that happens in American pop culture sort of prescribes for England and does end up happening there six months later, maybe a year.

I'm in love with someone good and kind and gentle, and he's seen the darkness too, but somehow we've become each other's light.

At least you know where you are with blood. At least other people can see it.

We intersect. He says he thanks every star that we existed on the same celestial plain. But here we are on earth, dirty, well used, a man-made throughway for intersecting dreams.

In other words, it was a struggle with himself. And the product of that struggle: anger, bitterness, resentment, envy or transformation, aspiration, hope, decency..the product of that struggle is the quality of your life and the nature of your soul.