When we're alive, life consumes us. But when we die, all of the color and the motion is gone so quickly, it's as though it can no longer stand to be wasted on us.

Things will get worse before they get better.

Hope, that risky, illustrious thing. It should have gone extinct by now, but we keep it alive.

I think, in this strange world of beautiful things, there may be some humanity after all.

It was my fifth grade teacher who introduced the idea that writing could be more than a hobby for me.

Every star has been set in the sky. We mistakenly think they were put there for us.

You've been captive for so long that you don't even realize you want freedom anymore.