She sobbed the way she did everything else- with passion and excess.

I learn from my own daughter that you don’t have to be awake to cry.

I always hated when my scars started to fade, because as long as I could still see them, I knew why I was hurting.

The damage was permanent; there would always be scars. But even the angriest scars faded over time until it was difficult to see them written on the skin at all, and the only thing that remained was the memory of how painful it had been.

Just because you can't see the wound doesn't mean it isn't hurting.

Scars are just a treasure map for pain you've buried too deep to remember.