Depression is like slashing at ghosts. Of course it's tempting to finally cut something real.
Alzheimer's disease is death before death, and I'm terrified of it.
When the end comes, I hope it’s as strange as that. I hope that the sky tears open and the world is washed with colors that we’ve never seen before.
Memories are like everything else. They're a trap.
Listening to music that I hate calms me down.
If we couldn't carry our dead inside us, we would be empty.