Nick is like a good stiff drink: He gives everything the correct perspective.

She released her grievances like handfuls of birdseed: They are there, and they are gone.

To refuse has so many more consequences than submitting.

People love talking, and I have never been a huge talker. I carry on an inner monologue, but the words often don't reach my lips.

She’s easy to like. I’ve never understood why that’s considered a compliment - that just anyone could like you.

I often don't say things out loud, even when I should. I contain and compartmentalize to a disturbing degree: In my belly-basement are hundreds of bottles of rage, despair, fear, but you'd never guess from looking at me.

I ached once, hard, like a period typed at the end of a sentence.