The small seed of despair cracks open and sends experimental tendrils upward to the fragile skin of calm holding him together.

. . . crazy world or maybe it's just the view we have of it, looking through a crack in the door, never being able to see the whole room, the whole picture.

I think living the blessed life is the luck of the draw.

Depression is not sobbing and crying and giving vent, it is plain and simple reduction of feeling.

Two separate, distinct personalities, not separate at all, but inextricably bound, soul and body and mind, to each other, how did we get so far apart so fast?

Some people with awful cards can be successful because of how they deal with the tragedies they're handed, and that seems courageous to me.

The 'creator' and the 'editor' - two halves of the writer whole - should sleep in separate rooms.