I've been an idiot to think that real life could have a happy ending

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

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.

If you spent your life concentrating on what everyone else thought of you, would you forget who you really were? What if the face you showed the world turned out to be a mask... with nothing beneath it?

There are just as many stories to be told in the dark spots s there are in the bright ones.

It just goes to show you: you can put nine insane miles between you and another person. You can make a vow to never speak his name. You can surgically remove someone from your life. And still, he'll haunt you.

sometimes words are not big enough to contain all the feelings you are trying to pour into them.