She doesn't understand that doors, walls, fences, ceilings - they're helpless to keep out what determinedly desires to get in.
I am dying: it's a beautiful word. Like the long slow sigh of the cello: dying. But the sound of it is the only beautiful thing about it.
It is scary, sometimes, Tomas admitted. But the scary bits are what make you brave.
I would always be lonely, but no more alone.
A small town has as many eyes as a fly
You're not supposed to have iron bars around you - no one is supposed to have that. You're supposed to fall down hills and get lonely, and find your own food and get wet when it rains. That's what happens when you're alive.