I still think that maybe the "afterlife" is just something we made up to ease the pain of loss, to make our time in the labyrinth bearable. Maybe we are just matter, and matter gets recycled

We were very different, and we disagreed about a lot of things, but he was always so interesting, you know?

My parents always liked it when I cursed in front of them. I could see the pleasure of it in their faces. It signified that I trusted them, that I was myself in front of them.

I feel like, like, how you matter is defined by the things that matter to you. You matter as much as the things that matter to you.

There's no way of knowing that your last good day is Your Last Good Day. At the time, it is just another good day.

I liked being a person. I wanted to keep at it.

The truth hurts because it's real. It hurts because it mattered. And that's an important thing to acknowledge to yourself.