Hold a thought in your head, and that was enough to change the actions of anyone and anything that crossed your path.
It’s easy to say you will do what’s right and shun what’s wrong, but when you get close enough to any given situation, you realize that there is no black or white. There are gradations of gray.
It turns out that the more you repeat the same action, no matter how reprehensible, the more you can make an excuse for it in your own mind.
The corollary is that we choose not to see what we’d rather pretend doesn’t exist.
It’s the question mark that comes with death that we can’t face, not the period.
It is such a heady rush to be the object of someone’s attention in a good way, not as a freak, that I keep forgetting to hide.
With each word that passes my lips, I feel less heavy. It is as if I am giving him sentences made of stones, and the more I relay, the more of the burden he is carrying.
Purgatory, he thought, was just a synonym for ‘tomorrow’.
There are two ways to be happy: improve your reality, or lower your expectations.
You can’t look back – you just have to put the past behind you, and find something better in your future.
Although you hadn’t asked why, it had less to do with you not noticing than with you not wanting to hear the answer.
And I remembered something else that makes us human: faith, the only weapon in our arsenal to battle doubt.
Bleeding heart, he’d called her. Well. He should know. He’d been the first to rip it to pieces.
You can touch everything and be connected to nothing.
There’s always going to be bad stuff out there. But here’s the amazing thing – light trumps darkness, every time. You stick a candle into the dark, but you can’t stick the dark into the light.
Words are like eggs dropped from great heights; you can no more call them back than ignore the mess they leave when they fall.
This is what I like about photographs. They’re proof that once, even if just for a heartbeat, everything was perfect.
The only difference between a wish and a prayer is that you’re at the mercy of the universe for the first, and you’ve got some help with the second.
To say there had been a loss was ludicrous; one lost a shoe or a set of keys. You did not suffer the death of a child and say there was a loss. There was a catastrophe. A devastation. A hell.
Once you had put the pieces back together, even though you may look intact, you were never quite the same as you’d been before the fall.