It wasn't so much that I was afraid of the place itself, but I was afraid of the creatures who masqueraded as people.

A women who does not know herself has no choice other than to live with other people's evaluations.

I’m still afraid of being totally honest. I’m more afraid of this than dying.

And what if, in order to keep on living, I have to continue to accept myself?

Kids lose their trust in the parents they love, but still accept them, so they end up not trusting themselves anymore.

Friends are a weird thing. It seems like they know all about you, but then they don’t understand you at all.

It wasn't so much that I was afraid of the place itself, but I was afraid of the creatures who masqueraded as people.