“Guilt is intense. Suffocating. A brick, tied quietly around your ankles while you sleep. You never fall slowly into guilt-you wake up with little time to take your last breath before being pulled under.”

“Dear to me is sleep: still more, being made of stone,While pain and guilt still linger here below,Blindness and numbness--these please me alone;Then do not wake me, keep your voices low.”

“Grief doesn't come in a landslide. It seeps in,while you are sleeping. First you start in dreaming. Then your wake-up time carries over the sadness. And last your whole days are filled like a tumbler of water,filled with an aching that drips over the edge and doesn't have anywhere to go.”

“Everyday he got up. Before sleep wore off, he was who he used to be. Then, as his consciousness woke, it was as if poison seeped in. At first he couldn't even get up. He lay there under a heavy weight. But then only movment could save him, and he moved and he moved and he moved, no movement being enough to make up for it. The guilt on him, the hand of God pressing down on him, saying, You were not there when your daughter needed you.”

“If all the world hated you and believed you wicked, while your own conscience approved of you and absolved you from guilt, you would not be without friends.”

“Guilt's just your ego's way of tricking you into thinking that you're making moral progress. Don't fall for it, my dear.”