We're here to get each other through this thing, whatever it is.

With mental illness the trick is to not take your feelings so seriously; you’re zooming in and zooming away from things that go from being too important to being not important at all.

Well, I thought, last night I paid my dues. I faced death. Now I can stay.

Put on all the armor of the Lord. Not just the pretty stuff.

Reading and writing are in themselves subversive acts.

Fear that I was very different from everyone else. Fear that deep down inside I was a shallow fraud, that after the revolution or after Jesus came down to straighten everything out, everyone from hippies to hard-hats would unfold and blossom into the beautiful people they were while I would remain a gnarled little wart in the corner, oozing bile and giving off putrid smells.

We're here to get each other through this thing, whatever it is.