It's a sad thing to watch your best friend turn into somebody you don't know anymore. Or even want to know.

I know that it's easier to look at death than it is to look at pain, because while death is irrevocable, and the grief will lessen in time, pain is too often merely relentless and irreversible.

If love drove people mad, what would lack of love do?

I would give anything, anything, to be the man to whom this has not happened. I can not accommodate myself to it. In a lifetime of trying, I can not accommodate myself to it. And now I will have to be that person forever.

I wasn't safe. I wasn't permanent. My life was a fiction I had created, like an alien who comes to earth and tries to pass as human. The affections of my friends meant nothing to me, directed, as they were, toward a person who wasn't there. There was nobody home.

If you don't receive love from the ones who are meant to love you, you will never stop looking for it.

There is an ache in my heart for the imagined beauty of a life I haven't had, from which I had been locked out, and it never goes away.