Beauty That Arose Out Of Pain.

Smiling Is Mostly About Smiling More.

Not Only Does He Hate Me, And Want To Kill Me, He No Longer Believes I'm Human. It Was Less Painful Being Strangled.

My Voice, At First Rough And Breaking On The High Notes, Warms Up Into Something Splendid. A Voice That Would Make The Mockingjays Fall Silent And Then Tumble Over Themselves To Join In.

You're A Painter. You're A Baker. You Like To Sleep With The Windows Open. You Never Take Sugar In Your Tea. And You Always Double-knot Your Shoelaces.

You'll Never Be Able To Let Him Go. You'll Always Feel Wrong About Being With Me.