The One Good Thing About Being Kind

Can't Escape Pain, Kiddo. Battle Through It And You Get Stronger.

Do They Choose To Be So Dense? Were They Born That Way? I Have No Friends. I Have Nothing. I Say Nothing. I Am Nothing.

Gossip Is The Foul Smell From The Devil's Backside.

Here Stands A Girl Clutching A Knife. There Is Grease On The Stove, Blood In The Air, And Angry Words Piled In The Corners. We Are Trained Not To See It, Not To See Any Of It. . . . Someone Just Ripped Off My Eyelids.

I Understood What Triggered Her Earthquakes, Most Of Them.