Go be absolutely, positively, fucking angelic.

Dear Ellis, I have something really fucking angelic to tell you.

Mickey holds up the soggy paper. DIE. Don't you die.

Evan always used to day that it wasn't that you couldn't see that you should be afraid of, but what was right in front of you, in plain sight.

...I'm in a little bubble of warmth, just like I had with Ellis, a place I never thought I'd be again.

People aren't nice, people aren't nice, you should know that by now.

I think Temple is wrong. I don't think I'd dig that kind of art party at all.

I think, Charlie, you have talent. I do. But I don't think you'll get far until you examine yourself and study.Until you let yourself be your subject. That's the exquisiteness of youth: you are allowed the luxury of vanity, of self-examination. Take it! Don't be ashamed of yourself.

Because when everything is said and done... the world runs on kindness. It simply has to, or we'd never be a able to bear ourselves. It might not seem so to you now, but it will when you're older." ~Ariel

...when I look at my arms, I don't think revolutionary. I think sad, and pain, but not revolutionary.

People should know about us. Girls who write their pain on their bodies. ~Louisa

Girl listens to radio. Girl finds music. Girl has whole other world.Girl slips on headphones. World gone.

Riley's sway as he disappeared down the alley, I recognized it. It wasn't booze. It was the thing that happened when a little too much got a little too messed up. They sway, it's what creeps over a person when they've begun to empty out and don't care enough to put anything back, to replace what has been lost.

I'm always losing things.

Everyone here seems to know exactly what they need, but I leave without a thing.

I'm tired and angry at me. For letting myself get smaller and smaller in the hopes that he would notice me more. But how can someone notice you if you keep getting smaller?

They make me...they make me think of being stuck somewhere? I don't know, like weighted down, but then these patches...

That's how hearts get broken, you know. When you believe in promises.

Casper didn't give me direction for what to do if somebody I used to really like-like, somebody who would be somebody good to love, somebody right, somebody who understood about me, turned out to not have the same ideas about me.

I'm no stranger to fucking up.

It is a though he is spreading a veil of protectiveness over me, and I am greedy for it.

Everyone has that moment I think, the moment when something so momentous happens that it rips your very being into small pieces. And then you have to stop. For a long time, you gather your pieces. And it takes such a very long time, not to fit them back together, but to assemble them in a new way, not necessarily a better way. More, a way you can live with until you know for certain that this piece should go there, and that one there.