Books didn't make me wallow in darkness, darkness made me wallow in books.

It's just that it's impossible to be a broken or whole person. You can only be a person. You can only exist, you can only belong to yourself, and you can only be responsible for your own happiness or belonging or whatever. That broken-part-piece-whole thing is just a trick of the mortal mind.

I like libraries. It's a comfort that knowledge can be save for so long. That what we learn can be passed on.

I am confident, I am capable, and I will not wait to be rescued by a woodsman or a hunter.

This is why Caliban was a punishment. I realize it now - it's a beautiful, perfect world of nothingness. No connection, no longing, no . . . love. A world we're trapped in until we're needed here, a world we're condemned to while everyone we might care about forgets us.

Maybe all you can do, when your world is burning, is hold on to the thing you love the most.

I follow, always, because its the only time when our hearts beat in perfect harmony, the only time when Im certain, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that we are one person broken in two.

All I've learned in today's Shakespeare class is: Sometimes you have to fall in love with the wrong person just so you can find the right person. A more useful lesson would've been: Sometimes the right person doesn't love you back. Or sometimes the right person is gay. Or sometimes you just aren't the right person. Thanks for nothing, Shakespeare.

I'm friggin' awesome! So screw the haters!

How could I possibly try to pretend the sunlight doesn’t exist, now that it’s taken so much of me?