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

People that keep stiff upper lips find that it's hard to smile.

Life is not a series of pathetic, meaningles actions. Some of them are so far from pathetic, so far from meaningless as to be beyond reason, maybe beyond forgiveness.

Feeling is not selective, I keep telling you that. You can’t feel pain, you aren’t gonna feel anything else, either.

For me being depressed means you can spend all day in bed, and still not get a good night's rest.

...let the emotional weight of a scene rest on the dialogue wherever possible. This is the easy way to avoid overinterpretation, which seems to be what turns a scene from sympathetic to sentimental.

Ours was not a political household, when I was growing up.