“My words are the garment of what I shall never be Like the tucked sleeve of a one-armed boy.”

“I rested my head on my arms and sighed dramatically. "What's up?" she asked"Why are boys so annoying?" she chuckled."You know what my mother used to say?" I shook my head still in position "Boys are stupid and girls are trouble" truer words were never spoken.”

“My little brother is in rehab.My little brother is in rehab.I feel like these words are written on my arms whenever I push up my sleeves, written on my cheeks whenever they relax out of my fake smile. They want to come out of my mouth, all the time. When I am called upon in class, or when someone says, "Hey, what's up?" - that's what I want to answer. "My little brother's in rehab." But I never do.”

“My friend, I am not what I seem. Seeming is but a garment I wear — a care-woven garment that protects me from thy questionings and thee from my negligence. The "I" in me, my friend, dwells in the house of silence, and therein it shall remain for ever more, unperceived, unapproachable.”

“Here I am at these crossroads again,wondering what will never become of me.Now and then, I'll take one on the chin.Because I wear my heart upon my sleeve.”

“What man I dare, I dare. Approach thou like the rugged Russian bear, the armed rhinoceros, or th' Hyrcan tiger; Take any shape but that, and my firm nerves shall never tremble.”