The hardest part of writing is not to get the ideas but to remember, why it is important to get them.

Sometimes you have to put your fears in order.

...and when is enough proof enough?

Please be truthful, but also please be benevolent, please.

August has passed, and yet summer continues by force to grow days. They sprout secretly between the chapters of the year, covertly included between its pages.

I'm sorry for my inability to let unimportant things go, for my inability to hold on to the important things.

I wondered, for the first time in my life, if life was worth all the work it took to live. What exactly made it worth it?