Beautiful people don't need coats. They've got their auras to keep them warm.

Hope is the crystal meth of emotions. It hooks you fast and kills you hard.

Voice is not just the sound that comes from your throat, but the feelings that come from your words.

I was only glad to be saved and never once thought to ask why.

And Robespierre, the Incorruptible, who loved us so much he cut off our heads so we would not be troubled by too many thoughts.

The rain comes down harder as I write. It sheets off the roof in torrents. I wish it would pound against me. Pound the life from my body. The flesh from my bones. The pain from my heart.

I'm wishing he could see that music lives. Forever. That it's stronger than death. Stronger than time. And that its strength holds you together when nothing else can.