The idea that God works in mysterious ways is rubbish. There’s nothing mysterious about his ways. They’re premeditated and slightly conniving, and they place you in an impossible situation.

You just have to belong. Long to be.

Just ask how I'm feeling, I want to say. Just ask and I may tell you. But no one does.

I just want it to go back to the way it was." "It'll never go back to the way it was, Frankie. But you have to make sure it goes forward.

I need voices of reason and of hysteria and of empathy. I need to have an Alanis moment. I need advice from Elizabeth Bennett. I need Tim Tams and comfort food.

Is a person worth more because they have someone to grieve for them?

In the end, the sum of my vices is all me.