I had to fight so hard not to cry.

Cut the ending. Revise the script. The man of her dreams is a girl.

This is my vision-what I imagine I'll pass through on my way to the light. The blue sky, the clouds, the rays of light.

...the man of my dreams is a girl.

Really? It seems too good to be true. I don't trust it. I don't trust anyone.

Your failures and your faults, they stick with you. They glob into ugly, cancerous growths inside you and make you want to die.

Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.

No one ever found out what was happening inside me. How the pain was eating me away. No one ever came to my rescue, or stood up for me.

What's the point of living if you don't belong anywhere?

What you see, isn't always what you get

Is that all I am? A friend?" "Of course not," I say. "I love you." "Am I the only one?" she asks. "Yes. Completely." First, last, and always.

She was a femme fatale with creative license, and she was sharpening her pen just for me.

I couldn't unpeach the peaches.

I can't live my life worrying about something that might never happen.

Don’t hide your scars. They make you who you are

It's the world without sunlight, but I haven't seen sunlight in so long, I don't remember it.

I live cinema and passionately love music, and my efforts in both these crafts are unfolding.

If I've made it a little easier for artists to work in violence, great! I've accomplished something.

Only the police should have handguns.

Good fortune is as light as a feather, but nobody knows how to pick it up. Misfortune is as heavy as earth, but nobody knows how to stay out of it's way.