Stupid. Why do people want to pretend
that death is sleep? It isn’t. It isn’t

I feel uneasy. It's not often that you encounter the real person behind a good-natured mask, the darkest parts of someone. It's not comfortable when you do.

Why do you say vague things if you don't want to be asked about them?

I was beginning to feel that I had finally found a place to stay, a place that was not so unstable or corrupt or controlling that I could actually belong there. You would think that I would have learned by now—such a place does not exist.

I wonder if that fear still creeps up on her now though she worked so hard to face it—I wonder if fears ever really go away, or if they just lose their power over us.

If someone offers you an opportunity to get closer to your enemy, you always take it. I know that without having learned it from anyone.