She wants to live for once. But doesn’t know quite what that means.
I'm mad about the waste that happens when people who love each other can't even bring themselves to talk.
Society makes our existence wretchedly difficult at times, hence our impotence and the imperfection of our work.
I know you grieve by running away. By pretending you were never there.
But these thoughts, which were as random and fleeting as clouds, were simply the outside layer of skin on a very large onion.