People are screwed up in this world. I'd rather be with someone screwed up and open about it than somebody perfect and ready to explode.

I like you a lot. Because you’re funny and smart and because you seem to like me. I know that’s not a good reason, but I can’t help it; if a girl likes me I tend to like her back [...] I like you for all this stuff but I also kind of like you for the cuts on your face—

I'm fine. Well, I'm not fine - I'm here." "Is there something wrong with that?" "Absolutely.

And that was the closest I've ever come to an epiphany.

I'm still a nobody, when am I not going to be a nobody?

Its so hard to talk when you want to kill yourself. That's above and beyond everything else, and it's not a mental complaint-it's a physical thing, like it's physically hard to open your mouth and make the words come out. They don't come out smooth and in conjunction with your brain the way normal people's words do; they come out in chunks as if from a crushed-ice dispenser; you stumble on them as they gather behind your lower lip. So you just keep quiet.

The stuff adults tell you not to do is the easiest.