Art without emotion its like chocolate cake without sugar. It makes you gag.

I am beginning to measure myself in strength, not pounds. Sometimes in smiles.

I would never be popular. I didn't want to be; I liked being shy. I'd never be the smartest or the hottest or the happiest. By eighth grade you start to figure out your limits.

There's no point in asking why, even though everybody will. I know why. The harder question is "why not?" I can't believe she ran out of answers before I did.

I pushed my ragged mouth against the mirror. A thousand crushed bleeding lips pushed back at me.

Because I am still a little girl who believes in Santa and the tooth fairy and you.

I am so sorry. I wish you knew even one tenth of one percent of how sorry I am. ...It was my fault. Can I kill myself here, or should I do it outside, so the mess on your carpet doesn't upset your mother?