Many trees have died so that the Catholic Church can preach against homosexuality.

I’d much rather pretend I’m somewhere else, and any time I open the pages of a book, that happens.

In the end, though, I did not kill my sister. She did it all on her own. Or at least this is what I tell myself.

Sometimes I think there's a beast that lives inside me, in the cavern that's where my heart should be, and every now and then it fills every last inch of my skin, so that I can't help but do something inappropriate. Its breath is full of lies; it smells of spite.

We sit for a few more moments, although there's really nothing left to say. This is new to me, too, an entire conversation that takes place in silence, because the heart has its own language. I will remember what Eric says even though he doesn't say a word. I will tell it to her.

The right idea is the one you can't stop thinking about; the one that's in your head first thing in the morning.

I think there are crossroads in our lives when we make grand, sweeping decisions without even realizing it.