There is an ugliness in being paid for work one does not like.
Sam dropped me off. When she was too far away to see me, I started to cry again. Because she was my friend again. And that was enough for me.
You should tell her how nice her outfit is because her outfit is her choice whereas her face isn't.
No more pencils, no more books, no more teachers' dirty looks, when the teacher rings the bell, drop your books and run like hell
As much as I feel sad, I think that not knowing is what really bothers me.
To tell you the truth I love Sam. It's not a movie kind of love either. I just look at her sometimes and I think she is the prettiest and nicest person in the whole world.
So, this is my life. And I want you to know that I am both happy and sad and I'm still trying to figure out how that could be.
If you're willing to put two thoughts into a picture then you're already ahead of the game.
I began to ration my writing, for fear I would dream through life as my father had done. I was afraid I had inherited a poisoned gene from him, a vocation without a gift.
In default of inexhaustible happiness, eternal suffering would at least give us a destiny. But we do not even have that consolation, and our worst agonies come to an end one day.
World is brighter with the happiness of children.