I wondered about her chicken-and-egg relationship with Dad. Which came first? Her helplessness or his controlling?

Teachers wondered why I didn't speak up more in class. Why would I when I knew how precarious words could be, how betraying they were, how vulnerable they made you?

You raze the old to raise the new.

What would it be like to look in the mirror and actually accept what you see? Not loathe the reflection, or despise it, or be resigned to it? But to like it?

My confidence was of the hothouse variety, carefully cultivated under highly regulated conditions. One wrong look, one mean comment, and my facade would wither.

Hey, if it's a good philosophy, it works. Death is imminent. Live every day like it's your last.

You can see beauty in everything, except for yourself.