“Why do some memories bleed out of nowhere and others stay locked behind doors?”

“They're fake bullets, so why do I feel like Im bleeding out?”

“Why are you doing this to yourself? When something bad happens, why do you have to pick at it until it bleeds all over again?”

“If history has a habit of repeating itself, doesn't someone have to stay behind to shout out a warning?”

“I sometimes wonder if it is just me, or if there are other women who figure out where they are supposed to be by going nowhere.”

“I sometimes wonder if it's just me, or if there are other women who figure out where they're supposed to be by going nowhere.”

“Memories are like a still life painted by ten different student artists: some will be blue-based; others red; some will be as stark as Picasso and others as rich as Rembrandt; some will be foreshortened and others distant. Recollections are in the eye of the beholder; no two held up side by side will ever quite match.”