“Remember no one really cares what you look like. They care what they look like. You are the only person in the world to have worried about your face.”

“The true definition of mental illness is when the majority of your time is spent in the past or future, but rarely living in the realism of NOW.”

“If you are sitting in the dark (due to depression) go turn the light on. If you can’t find the light switch, seek the help of someone who can.”

“Even the tiniest of flowers can have the toughest roots.”

“What I want everyone to know is that the sun is going to rise tomorrow whether you want it to or not. Life is tragic, but it’s also beautiful.”

“If a man comes to the door of poetry untouched by the madness of the Muses, believing that technique alone will make him a good poet, he and his sane compositions never reach perfection, but are utterly eclipsed by the performances of the inspired madman.”

“He was lovable the way a child is lovable, and he was capable of returning love with a childlike purity. If love is nevertheless excluded from his work, it’s because he never quite felt that he deserved to receive it. He was a lifelong prisoner on the island of himself. What looked like gentle contours from a distance were in fact sheer cliffs. Sometimes only a little of him was crazy, sometimes nearly all of him, but, as an adult, he was never entirely not crazy. What he’d seen of his id while trying to escape his island prison by way of drugs and alcohol, only to find himself even more imprisoned by addiction, seems never to have ceased to be corrosive of his belief in his lovability. Even after he got clean, even decades after his late-adolescent suicide attempt, even after his slow and heroic construction of a life for himself, he felt undeserving. And this feeling was intertwined, ultimately to the point of indistinguishability, with the thought of suicide, which was the one sure way out of his imprisonment; surer than addiction, surer than fiction, and surer, finally, than love.”

“How does one kill fear, I wonder? How do you shoot a spectre through the heart, slash off its spectral head, take it by its spectral throat?”

“Anger’s like a battery that leaks acid right out of meAnd it starts from the heart ’til it reaches my outer me”

“The first time I saw her,Everything in my head went quiet.”

“He could only consider me as the living corpse of a would-be suicide, a person dead to shame, an idiot ghost.”

“We are great writers on the same dreadful typewriter”

“I think a lot of psychopaths are just geniuses who drove so fast that they lost control.”

“Take a shower, wash off the day. Drink a glass of water. Make the room dark. Lie down and close your eyes.Notice the silence. Notice your heart. Still beating. Still fighting. You made it, after all. You made it, another day. And you can make it one more. You’re doing just fine.”