I've always sort of wondered: If everyone else's opinion is what matters, then do you ever really have one of your own?

Just because you didn't speak the facts out loud didn't erase their existence. Silence was just a quieter way to lie.

One person's trauma is another's loss of innocence.

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

How can you be a survivor, when you can't even remember the war?

She understood how a world jammed with phones, email, and faxes could still leave you feeling utterly alone.

I think that's probably the most devastating thing - when someone who is larger than life winds up a shadow of themselves in a hospital bed.