A little-known fact about me: I read all the time.

It wasn't about how she looked, which was pretty, even though she was always wearing the wrong clothes and those beat-up sneakers. It wasn't about what she said in class--usually something no one else would've thought of, and if they had, something they wouldn't have dared to say. It wasn't that she was different from all the other girls at Jackson. That was obvious. It was that she made me realize how much I was just like the rest of them, even if I wanted to pretend I wasn't.

When you look up. Do you see the blue sky of what might be? Or the darkness of what will never be? Do you see me?

The one broken window that permanently wouldn't roll up had destroyed her perfectly curled blond prom-hair, and by the time we got to the gym she looked like Marie Antoinette with bedhead.

Suffering has been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to understand what your heart used to be.

Power is neither good nor evil.

Lies, lies are the place where darkness grows.