She was like a drowning person, flailing, reaching for anything that might save her. Her life was an urgent, desperate struggle to justify her life.

Anyone who believes that a second is faster than a decade did not live life.

Sometimes I can hear my bones straining under the weight of all the lives I'm not living.

I'm sorry for my inability to let unimportant things go, for my inability to hold on to the important things.

I don't think that there are any limits to how excellent we could make life seem.

I am always sad, I think. Perhaps this signifies that I am not sad at all, because sadness is something lower than your normal disposition, and I am always the same thing. Perhaps I am the only person in the world, then, who never becomes sad. Perhaps I am lucky.