When you're rotten about yourself, you become rotten to everyone else, even those you love.
He never spoke of that night again, not to your mother, not to anyone else. He was ashamed for her, for Mickey, for himself. In the hospital, he stopped speaking altogether. Silence was his escape, but silence is rarely a refuge. His thoughts still haunted him.' ~pg 139
sometimes what you miss the most is the way a loved one made you feel about yourself.
Life has to end, love doesn't.
It's such a shame to waste time. We always think we have so much of it.
She felt worthless and hollow. There was no hope of fixing this. And when hope is gone, time is punishment.