“She didn’t know whether she was running away from something or running to something, but she admitted that deep in her heart she wanted to go home.”

I’ve got to sleep. Sleep is my only way to escape.

The complete bottom has fallen out of my life.

I wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone in this whole world. I wouldn’t hurt them physically or emotionally, how then can people so consistently do it to me?

They don’t think “I care,” “I hurt,” or “I have feelings.” It just seems like I’m always “wrong,” always “selfish,” always “self-centered” and everything else that’s negative and destructive.

I’m partly somebody else trying to fit in and say the right things and do the right thing and be in the right place and wear what everybody else is wearing.

I feel like Alice in Wonderland. Maybe Lewis G Carroll was on drugs too.

I would like to stay stoned all the time, it scares me it’s so good. I would like to stay stoned every minute of every day for the rest of my life.

This morning when I left Mom’s parting words were, “Come straight home after school.” Wow! Like I’m going to get stoned at 3:30—it doesn’t sound so bad at that.

I’m afraid to live and afraid to die.

Sometimes I think we’re all trying to be shadows of each other, trying to buy the same records and everything even if we don’t like them. Kids are like robots, off an assembly line, and I don’t want to be a robot!

one day I’ll be old, without ever having really been young

I guess I’ll never measure up to anyone’s expectations. I surely don’t measure up to what I’d like to be.

I bet the pill is harder to get than drugs–which shows how screwed up this world really is!

How can thoughts hurt so much when they aren’t even physical?

I really am only one infinitely small part of an aching humanity.

They have accepted me as an individual, as a personality, as an entity. I belong! I am important! I am somebody!

Hope is a renewable option: If you run out of it at the end of the day, you get to start over in the morning.

But kids don’t stay with you if you do it right. It’s the one job where, the better you are, the more surely you won’t be needed in the long run.

Don’t get cocky just because you’ve had a good run. You can lose your business as fast as you’ve earned it.

In the British Special Air Service, combat fitness is all about running.

Running back was always my favorite position.

Race, what is that? Race is a competition, somebody winning and somebody losing. Blood doesn’t run in races! Come on!

There are a lot of ways to serve, and being president is not the only one, and I would hope that someone else would run.

I don’t want to get too detailed into it, but when you’re a good high school running back, you can almost be whatever type of runner you want to be. If you’re a good size and a good athlete, you can be whatever type of runner you want.