That's all I want. Just you and me. Always.

This was what being cured was like: like being in a fishbowl, circling always inside the same glass.

My stomach gets that hollowed-out feeling. It's amazing how words can do that, just shred your insides apart.

I'd rather die my way than live yours.

I guess that’s just part of loving people: You have to give things up. Sometimes you even have to give them up.

The memories seem like snapshots from someone else’s life.

It is a ruined-world, a nonsense-place.