“I close my eyes and I take a deep breath and I think about my life and how I ended up this way. I think about the ruin, devastation and wreckage I have caused to myself and to others. I think about self-hatred and self-loathing. I think about how and why and what happened and the thoughts come easily, but the answers don't.”

“I think of how and why and what happened and the thoughts come easily, but the answers don't.”

“I don't think anymore that my life is about what has happened to me. It's about what I choose to believe. It's not what I can see, but what I think is out there. And in the end, this end, here is what I believe. The heart is a wild and fugitive creature. The heart is a dog who comes home.”

“It's six o'clock in the morning-I open my eyes and think about you.I thought it was like a never ending fairy-tale.But I'm alone in my bedroom, looking at the celling-Thinking about what we have; what we've done-I was thinking about our life together-Thinking about our love.The only thing I know is...That I'm in love with you,That I'm in love with you.”

“Maybe what I really wanted, I began to think, was a stronger sense of fellowship... I thought about my friends and about how I didn't have any...”

“I'm supposed to be a christian, but most days I don't feel like I can even presume to say that about myself any longer. I have a lot of mad left over. When I can't sleep, I think about the other people who didn't care how much pain and trouble they caused me. And I think about how good I'd feel if they died.”