Even five minutes of your time can make someone's day.

Maybe memories should be left the way they are.

The gods do make playthings of us ... but it is we mortals who provide them with the tools.

The depression belongs to all of us. I think of the family down the road whose mother was having a baby and they went around the neighborhood saying, "We're pregnant." I want to go around the neighborhood saying, "We're depressed." If my mum can't get out of bed in the morning, all of us feel the same. Her silence has become ours, and it's eating us alive.

I shrug. "I'll probably mention that I'm in love with you." He chuckles. "Only you would say that in such a I-think-I'll-wash-my-hair-tonight tone.

I’m frightened that one morning there will not be enough to keep me going.

Whatever is now covered up will be uncovered and every secret will be made known.