It's Nice That You Spend A Day

But Hurting Ourselves To Inflict Pain On Others Is Just Another Cry To Be Loved.

I Worked Because I Could Control It.

She Had Been So Consumed With Escaping Her Own Misery, She Hadn't Considered The Misery She Might Inflict.

Every Day, Have A Little Bird On Your Shoulder That Asks, 'is Today The Day? Am I Ready? Am I Doing All I Need To Do? Am I Being The Person I Want To Be? Is Today The Day I Die?

If You Really Could Fit God In A File, You Wouldn't Need To Believe In God, You Know, You'd Just Go Get The File Like A Box Of Corn Flakes Off The Shelf.