Is it because they are so comfortable, they already know what the other is thinking? Or is it because after a certain point, there is simply nothing left to say?

The desperate usually succeed because they have nothing to lose.

Crazy girls did this, girls who walked like zombies through YA novels. But. Trixie felt the sting of the skin as it split, the sweet welling rise of blood. It hurt, though not as much as everything else idd.

After a certain point, a heart with so many stress fractures can never be anything but broken.

Words are like eggs dropped from great heights; you can no more call them back than ignore the mess they leave when they fall.

And I think, not for the first time, that what is immoral is not always wrong.

I know what it's like to start something and have it suddenly grow out of control. And you want to get rid of it, because it's hurting you and everyone else around you, but every time you try to do that, it consumes you again.