In the end, everyone loses everyone.

I spent my life learning to feel less.

It broke my heart into more pieces than my heart was made of, why can't people say what they mean at the time?

We need a better way to talk about eating animals, a way that doesn't ignore, or even just shruggingly accept things like habits, cravings, family and history, but rather incorporates them into the conversation. The more they are allowed in, the more strongly we will want to follow our best instincts.

It’s hard to say goodbye to the place you’ve lived. It can be as hard as saying goodbye to a person.

We live in a world made up more of story than stuff. We are creatures of memory more than reminders, of love more than likes. Being attentive to the needs of others might not be the point of life, but it is the work of life. It can be messy, and painful, and almost impossibly difficult. But it is not something we give. It is what we get in exchange for having to die.

I wish my days could be washed away like the chalk lines of my days.