I try to find meaning anywhere I can. It's the only way I know how to validate my existence.

I know that if I ever have the audacity to blame fate or God for holding a gun to my temple, I also have the wherewithal to remind myself that if I end up with a hole in my head, I was the one who pulled the trigger.

Committing suicide so as not to be murdered is the worst reason I've ever heard of to die.

You can’t judge a man solely on his actions. Sometimes actions are nothing more than re actions.

Lying next to Eliza, I had the feeling I had I'd just found something I didn't even know I'd lost.

Forget the noose. Forget the Iron Maiden. Forget the electric chair or the guillotine. The mind was mankind's most painful torture chamber, the blessed liberty to cogitate offering either doom or salvation, depending on one's disposition.

It seemed cruelly unfair to me, even then, how fast your life can change before you have an opportunity to rethink your choices. We should get second chances on the big stuff. We should come equipped with erasers attached to the tops of our heads. Like pencils. We should be able to flip over and scribble away mistakes, at least once or twice during the duration of our existence, especially in matters of life and death.