It's hard to be nice when the rest of the world is so mean.

I thought again how you could never really know what you were seeing with just a glance, in motion, passing by. Good or bad, right or wrong. There was always so much more.

I watched my mother do what she did best, and realized there would never be a way to cut myself from her entirely. No matter how strong or weak I was, she was a part of me, as crucial as my own heart. I would never be strong enough, in all my life, to do without her.

How do you even begin to return to someone, much less convince them to do the same for you? I had no idea. More than ever, though, right then I had to believe the answer would just come to me.

There's just something obvious about emptiness, even when you try to convince yourself otherwise.

True friendship is a promise you keep forever.

So he didn't have to prove how he felt about me. Like so much else, I should just know.