Quotes About Expression

My face becomes a Picasso sketch, my body slicing into pieces.

I am learning how to be angry and sad and lonely and joyful and excited and afraid and happy.

All that crap you hear on TV about communication and expressing feelings is a lie. Nobody really wants to hear what you have to say.

To keep up appearances, I stomp my room and slam the door.

I see IT in the hallway. IT goes to Merryweather. IT is walking with Aubrey cheerleader. IT is my nightmare and I can't wake up.IT sees me. IT smiles and winks. Good thing my lips are stitched together or I'd throw up.

I cry to let everything out

They say they have noticed me drawing. I almost tell them right then and there. They noticed.

He says a million things without saying a word. I have never heard a more eloquent silence.

I open a paperclip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist. Pitiful. If a suicide attempt is a cry for help, then what is this. A whimper, a peep? I draw little window cracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting.

wats yr typ? people who can spell

I pushed my ragged mouth against the mirror. A thousand crushed bleeding lips pushed back at me...

The school board banned one of Maya Angelou's books, so the librarian had to take down her poster. I fished it out of the trash. She must be a great writer if the school board is scared of her.

Can the plural possessive express the feelings in your heart? If you don't learn art now, you will never learn to breathe!

Shame, turned inside out, is rage.

I stuff my mouth with old fabric and scream until there are no sounds left under my skin.

Everyone is born a freak, notes Hayley. Every newborn baby, wet and hungry and screaming, is a fresh-hatched freak who wants to have a good time and make the world a better place. . . . Most teenagers wind up in high school. And high school is where the zombification process becomes deadly.

Revision means throwing out the boring crap and making what's left sound natural.

I think you have a lot to say. I'd like to hear it.

Think about love, or hate, or joy, or pain- whatever makes you feel something, makes your palms sweat, or your toes curl. Focus on that feeling. When people don't express themselves, they die on piece at a time.

This is not a resting bitch face This is a touch-me-and-die face

Picasso." He whispers like a priest. "Picasso. Who saw the truth. Who painted the truth, molded it, ripped from the earth with two angry hands.

You'd be shocked at how many adults are already dead inside, walking around with no clue, waiting for a heart attack or cancer to finish the job. When people don't express themselves, they die one piece at a time. It's the saddest thing I know.

I sent a simple smiley face, because my phone did not have a smiley face that was wrapping her hands around her own throat and beating her head against a wall.

Bologna girl, that's me.