Life is a nightmare.
Some of the most profound truths about us are things that we stop saying in the middle.
The stuff adults tell you not to do is the easiest.
Life can’t be cured, but it can be managed.
Depression starts slow.
My family shouldn’t have to put up with me. They’re good people, solid, happy. Sometimes when I’m with them I think I’m on television.
It’s tough to get out of bed; I know that myself. You can lie there for an hour and a half without thinking anything, just worrying about what the day holds and knowing that you won’t be able to deal with it.
I’m young, but I’m already screwing up my life. I’m smart but not enough – just smart enough to have problems.
The therapists told you that you needed to find happiness within yourself before you got it from another person.
I lie there thinking about how everything I’ve done is a failure, death and failure, and there’s no hope for me except being homeless, because I’m never going to be able to hold a job because everyone else is so much smarter.
You are blessed with a good mind. You just have to have confidence in it and talk when people call on you.
But you know what, it’s time for me to stop putting other people’s emotions ahead of my own. It’s time for me to be true to myself, like the popstars say. And my true self wants to blast off this rock.
You lose one friend, you pick up another.
I picked Ember. After I started working with Mortin.′ ‘Why?’ ‘Because embers turn into flames.
Someday someone is going to find this pelvis sexy or I’ll never have children.
There’s so much more for me to be doing. I should be a success and I’m not and other people – younger people – are. Younger people than me are on TV and getting paid and winning scholarships and getting their lives in order. I’m still a nobody. When am I going to not be a nobody?
I’m done with those; regrets are an excuse for people who have failed.
She doesn’t want to end up like me. At least I’m giving someone an example not to follow.
Sometimes when you open a book, time stops.
Dr. Barney stared at me, his lips puckered. What was he so serious about? Who hasn’t thought about killing themselves, as a kid? How can you grow up in this world and not think about it?