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

The trick to surviving an interrogation is patience. Don't offer up anything. Don't explain. Answer the question and only the question that is asked so you don't accidentally put your head in a noose.

In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves.

The stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking didn't make her skinny, it made her cry.

I am not going to think about it. It was ugly, but it’s over, and I’m not going to think about it.

None of [the books are] worth reading. There are no fairy tales, no faerie tails, no sword-swinging princesses or lightning-throwing gods.

I am a gluttonous, gorging failure. A waste. My body isn’t used to high-sugar carbs laced with witchcraft. It can barely cope with soup and crackers.