“She was also the most lonely and sad. She was a genius of sadness — immersing herself in it, separating its numerous strands, appreciating its subtle nuances. She was a prism through which sadness could be divided into its infinite spectrum. She was like a drowning person, flailing, reaching for anything that might save her. She addressed her world honestly, albeit hesitant at times, searching for something deserving of the volumes of love she knew she had within her.”
“And as I sit here, waiting… to become something that I know I’m destined to be. I can’t help but think, am I really? And there are going to be days where you second guess yourself but know that you’re wrong you shouldn’t and it’s okay that you do but also know that if you really are, nothing will stop you from becoming.”
“The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.”
“Sleep felt productive. Something was getting sorted out. I knew in my heart—this was, perhaps, the only thing my heart knew back then—that when I’d slept enough, I’d be okay. I’d be renewed, reborn. I would be a whole new person, every one of my cells regenerated enough times that the old cells were just distant, foggy memories. My past life would be but a dream, and I could start over without regrets, bolstered by the bliss and serenity that I would have accumulated in my year of rest and relaxation.”
“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn’t it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up.”
Lillian. 
