If you ask me, music is the language of memory
Superheroes were born in the minds of people desperate to be rescued.
They're fake bullets, so why do I feel like Im bleeding out?
The music we listen to may not define who we are. But it’s a damn good start.
History could hover, like a faint perfume or a memory stamped on the back of one's eyelids.
I learn from my own daughter that you don’t have to be awake to cry.
Bad is not an absolute, but a relative term. Ask the robber who used the cash he stole to feed his infant; the rapist who was sexually abused as a child; the kidnapper who truly believed he was saving a life. And just because you break the law doesn't mean you have intentionally crossed the line into evil. Sometimes the line creeps up on you, and before you know it, you're standing on the other side.
At home I was raped by a guy i thought I loved' Trixie said, because thats what it was to her and always would be.
Everyone thinks you make mistakes when you're young. But I don't think we make any fewer when we're grown up
Traveling is all very well and good as long as you knew there is a place or person you can call home
In reality, you don’t ever change the hurricane. You just learn how to stay out of its path.
People don’t just disappear. There’s always a reason, or an enemy with a grudge. There’s always a loose thread that starts to unravel.
Safety is relative. You can be so close to shore that you can practically feel it under your feet, when you suddenly find yourself breaking apart on the rocks.
In half hour my mother has managed to give me what my father couldn't: my past.
Knowledge was power, but a good librarian did not hoard the gift. She taught others how to find, where to look, how to see.
I used to pretend that I was just passing through this family on my way to my real one.
I look for places like me: big, hollow, forgotten by most everyone.
After all, the only way to communicate is to find someone who can comprehend; the only way to be forgiven is to find someone who is willing to forgive.
Is it because they are so comfortable, they already know what the other is thinking? Or is it because after a certain point, there is simply nothing left to say?
This is when I realize that Anna has already left the table, and more importantly, that nobody noticed.
It is so easy to presume that while your own world has ground to an absolute halt, so has everyone else's.
There is nothing worse than silence, strung like heavy beads on too delicate a conversation.
You okay in there?" "No, I'm hanging from a closet rod.
My mother walks forward. She's crying, but there's a smile on her face. For God's sake, is it any wonder I can't ever understand what you people are feeling?
The bottom line in both cases is that people don't change; that no matter how charming you are and how fiercely you love, you cannot turn a person into something she's not.
"Everyone still deserves to have their say."
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