I know I wrote letters to people with no address on this earth, I know that you are dead. But I hear you. I hear all of you. We were here. Our lives matter.

Sometimes your music sounds like there’s too much inside you. Maybe even you couldn’t get it all out. Maybe that’s why you died. Like you exploded from the inside.

I don´t know anyone who has a perfect family to start with. And I think that´s why we make up our own. regular weirdos together. I feel that way about my friends.

People love you for what they want to see in you, not for what you are. That's a sad thing to learn.

Words can't be wood enough for a lot of things. But you know, I guess we have to try.

If beauty is truth, and truth is beauty, they are defined by each other, so how do we know the meaning of either?

There are a lot of human experiences that challenge the limits of our language.

For the shadows to stop growing. For people to stop being angry.

How could she just leave me here to live without her? I miss her so much. I love her. I want her to grow up and become who she was meant to be. I wanted her to grow up with me.

I know I could have saved your ashes to put into the ocean, but I wanted you to have the journey, all the way with the currents, to the open sea. And I know that when I finally get to see the waves washing on the shore, to hear them, I will feel you there.

It seemed everyone knew their place in it, but I was in the mood where I would rather be alone and look a houseplants.

You learned right away that applause sounds like love.

Our flushing hearts, trying to climb to the stars- how with the wrong wind, we can fall.

I guess somethings turned out too sad even to be explained with a bases-loaded strikeout.

What’s left of what your body was —once the girl with bare shoulder blades , giggling, once the girl galloping an imaginary horse, once the girl sleeping in her sequined red dress— was now ash in a jar. Grains of bone. But then, I knew it wasn’t you anymore. You were somewhere more.

I think that I've been trying for a long time to feel like I am supposed to, instead of what I actually am.

I have found that sometimes, moments get stuck in your body. They are there, lodged under your skin like hard seed-stones of wonder or sadness or fear, everything else growing up around them. And if you turn a certain way, if you fall, one of them could get free. It might dissolve in your blood, or it might spring up a whole tree. Sometimes, once one of them gets out, they all start to go.

When parents talk about their pasts, the stories start to stick in your head. But the memories that you inherit look different from the now-world, and different from your own memories, too. Like they have a color all their own. I don’t mean sepia-toned or something. My parents aren’t even that old. I just mean that there is something particular about their glow.

Because I think that by beauty, you don't just mean something that's pretty. You mean something that makes us human.

Why are some things harder to lose than others? because of love, of course. The more you love something the harder it is to lose.

The art of losing isn't hard to master. I,ve done it

I don´t want to be a ghost or a stupid sexy cat. I want to be something that I really want to be.

I´m one of those regular weird people.

We are each weird in a different way.

Christmas and the others can end up making you sad, because you know you should be happy.

No guilt or anger or longing changes that.

Words aren't good enough for a lot of things, but we have to try.

Because of love, of course. The more you love something, the harder it is to lose.

But you said you love me. You don’t just leave after that.

All of a sudden we were out of the lot and on the highway next to the mountains, flying. I put my hand out the window, and then I put my head out. I felt my hair blow behind me and the air rush into me, and I forgot for a moment to worry about how I was supposed to be. Because I was perfect right then. Everything was. And Sky was a perfect driver. Not scary. Just steady. And fast. I wanted the music to last forever.

I know that "what´s up" is just something people say, but it´s a very hard thing to say anything back to.

And i still don't know how to make sense of the world. but maybe it's okay that it's bigger than what we can hold on to.

Halloween is one of my favorite holidays. Christmas and the others can end up making you sad, because you know you should be happy. But on Halloween you get to become anything that you want to be