It won't matter if nobody ever thinks I'm pretty (although sometimes I wish, just for a second, that somebody would)

I know that the whole point—the only point—is to find the things that matter, and hold on to them, and fight for them, and refuse to let them go.

And I guess that's when it starts to hit me: the whole point is, you do what you can.

I'm starved for different light, a different sun,different sky.

Unhappiness is bondage; therefore, happiness is freedom.

I feel a flash of grief so intense it almost makes me cry out: not for what I lost, but for the chances I missed.

He who leaps for the sky may fall, it's true. But he may also fly.