I leaned in toward her, suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling that we must kiss.

I hated hurting him. Most of the time, I could forget about it, but the inexorable truth is this: They might be glad to have me around, but I was the alpha and the omega of my parents' suffering.

The idea is that for ten minutes, we forget that we have feelings. And we forget about protecting ourselves or other people and we just say the truth. For ten minutes. And then we can go back to being lame.

“I thought we were in a church basement, but we are literally in the heart of Jesus.” “Someone should tell Jesus,” I said. “I mean, it's gotta be dangerous, storing children with cancer in your heart.” “I would tell Him myself.” Augustus said, “but unfortunately I am literally stuck inside of His heart, so He won't be able to hear me.”

I think that it's a universal urge to have our pain not be felt alone and to have our joys not be felt alone.

Why is it upset? Shouldn't it be downset?

I wanted to, you know, get my story out in the world, which, it turns out, is a very misguided notion.