The fire, the fire. It rages within, a campfire and then an inferno, and my body is its fuel. I feel it racing through me, eating away at the weight. There is nothing that can kill me now; I am powerful and invincible and eternal.

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I see a kind of thirst in her expression, the same one I saw when she told me about her brother in the back room of the tattoo parlor. Before the attack simulation I might have called it a thirst for justice, or even revenge, but now I am able to identify it as a thirst for blood. And even as it frightens me, I understand it. Which should probably frighten me even more.

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Sometimes, the best way to help someone is just to be near them.

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Writing means not just staring ugliness in the face, but finding a way to embrace it.

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Desperation can make a person do surprising things.

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There is always somthing to learn, always somthing that is important to understand

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Maybe there's more we all could have done, but we just have to let the guilt remind us to do better next time.

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Do remember, though, that sometimes the people you oppress become mightier than you would like.

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We believe in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot defend themselves.

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Since I was young, I have always known this: Life damages us, every one. We can’t escape that damage. But now, I am also learning this: We can be mended. We mend each other.

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