“I want to write, but more than that, I want to bring out all kinds of things that lie buried deep in my heart.”

“No, it can't," I say. "It's— it's the kind of thing you want to say, that you want to believe, but it isn't— I know isn't true. I thought my heart knew things, but what I thought was real turned out to be a lie, and now I don't—”

“I don't want to die in darkness any thicker than this. I want to bring some kind of resolution in my life.”

“Beyond just writing about falling in love and out of love and wanting to do certain things and going out and partying and all the things that I grew up writing about, I want to write about deeper things.”

“We all choose things, and we also all choose against things. I want to be the kind of person who chooses for more than chooses against...”

“I want to burn with excitement or anger and bleed, bleed out my words. I want to get all fucked up and write raw and ugly about all these things I see and am and could be.”