And i still don't know how to make sense of the world. but maybe it's okay that it's bigger than what we can hold on to.

I know I wrote letters to people with no address on this earth, I know that you are dead. But I hear you. I hear all of you. We were here. Our lives matter.

Sometimes your music sounds like there’s too much inside you. Maybe even you couldn’t get it all out. Maybe that’s why you died. Like you exploded from the inside.

I don´t know anyone who has a perfect family to start with. And I think that´s why we make up our own. regular weirdos together. I feel that way about my friends.

People love you for what they want to see in you, not for what you are. That's a sad thing to learn.

Words can't be wood enough for a lot of things. But you know, I guess we have to try.

If beauty is truth, and truth is beauty, they are defined by each other, so how do we know the meaning of either?

There are a lot of human experiences that challenge the limits of our language.

For the shadows to stop growing. For people to stop being angry.

How could she just leave me here to live without her? I miss her so much. I love her. I want her to grow up and become who she was meant to be. I wanted her to grow up with me.

It seemed everyone knew their place in it, but I was in the mood where I would rather be alone and look a houseplants.

Prey cannot bribe its way out of a predator’s hand.

Tell them I have the headache--no, the plague! I need something nice and contagious.

Why did you take me down this road if you don't want to walk with me? Why do you exist all alone, when you could just talk to me?

We cannot infer from prosperity that God is pleased with us, nor can we infer from adversity that he is displeased with us.

I love that magazine, man - Victoria's Secret - and it comes, like, every three hours.

The thing about crazy people; they don't know they are crazy, that's what make them crazy.

Iranians defend and present their Islamic and Iranian identity to other people worldwide.

We have banished our artists to the fringe of society and tell them to eat cake. It is our artists who choose freedom over safety and use their talents to question and confront the culture.

If you can't write a story that pleases yourself, you will never please the public. But in writing the story forget the public.

Some tears have to be cried no matter what the hour- until they are, they simply rave and burn inside.