You might not write well every day, but you can always edit a bad page. You can't edit a blank page.

Maybe knowing where you belong is not equal to knowing who you are.

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.

Did you ever wonder if the person in the picture is the same one you see when you look in the mirror?" - "That's the eternal question, isn't it? Are we born who we are, or do we make ourselves that way?

No, honestly, my mouth shouldn't be able to function unless my brain's engaged.

Although you hadn't asked why, it had less to do with you not noticing than with you not wanting to hear the answer.

Doing the right thing for someone else occasionally means doing something that feels wrong to you.