Stacey

“The man began speaking to me. “When I was a boy, I worked as a messenger for the telegraph company. The sky was even darker from the mills then than it is today, and on bad days, I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. To deliver my messages in the allotted time, I had to memorize the streets because I couldn’t always see where I was going. Sometimes, I’d have to assist deliverymen who’d lost their way by walking along the curb with one hand on their horses. From this experience, I learned that when you’ve gone astray, a helping hand will always emerge from the darkness.”
― Marie Benedict, Carnegie's Maid

“I'm the girl who is lost in space, the girl who is disappearing always, forever fading away and receding farther and farther into the background. Just like the Cheshire cat, someday I will suddenly leave, but the artificial warmth of my smile, that phony, clownish curve, the kind you see on miserably sad people and villains in Disney movies, will remain behind as an ironic remnant. I am the girl you see in the photograph from some party someplace or some picnic in the park, the one who is in fact soon to be gone. When you look at the picture again, I want to assure you, I will no longer be there. I will be erased from history, like a traitor in the Soviet Union. Because with every day that goes by, I feel myself becoming more and more invisible...”
― Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

“But I have learned this. In every wound, there is a gift. Even the self-inflicted ones.”
― Barbara Davis, The Echo of Old Books

“Write a short story every week. It's not possible to write 52 bad short stories in a row.”
― Ray Bradbury