My dad used to say that living with regrets was like driving a car that only moved in reverse.

It was like trying to bail out an ocean of water with a teaspoon.

Lately, I have been having nightmares, where I'm cut into so many pieces that there isn't enough of me to be put back together.

Seeing her sitting there unresponsive makes me realize that silence has a sound.

I always hated when my scars started to fade, because as long as I could still see them, I knew why I was hurting.

Did you ever walk through a room that's packed with people, and feel so lonely you can hardly take the next step?

My brother believed in all sorts of mythical creatures: pixies, dragons, werewolves, honest men.