A question like “do you love me?” was an itch our doctors told us not to scratch.

You see, the deaf have an intimacy with silence. It’s there in their dreams.

Sometimes becoming drug free has less to do with addiction and more to do with sanity.

Scrape the grey sky clean. Realize every grey cloud is a smoke screen to blind us from the truth, and the truth is whether we see them or not the sun and moon are still there, and always there is light.

We so seldom understand each other. But if understanding is neither here nor there, and the universe is infinite, then understand that no matter where we go we will always be smack dab in the middle of nowhere. All we can do is share some piece of ourselves, and hope that it’s remembered. Hope that we meant something to someone

Don't tell me you're not beautiful. You're the kind of beautiful the blind would see if we could figure out some way to give them three seconds of sight.

We're all shipwrecked on this idea that everything has to be explained.