“When my internal voice goes external, and I’m in a noisy crowd, I can hardly hear myself think.”

“I can't even hear what I'm thinking most of the time. My brain's noisy.”

“Please—please get up—and lower your voice—”“Hell no.”“Why not?” I’m pleading now.“Because if I lower my voice, I won’t be able to hear myself speak. And that,” he says, “is my favorite part.”

“I thought that I was praying for external peace and quiet, when it was internal tranquillity that I craved.”

“For myself, for a long time... maybe I felt inauthentic or something, I felt like my voice wasn't worth hearing, and I think everyone's voice is worth hearing. So if you've got something to say, say it from the rooftops.”

“It seems as if I can only thing if I write my journal, it just connects the part of my head that is busy doing things with the part that is busy thinking about everything else. I know all these pepole are so busy because they love each other and me. We are a noisy crowd of love”