• other rooms, other voices - truman capote: The brain may take advice, but the heart, and love, having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface: and why not? Any love is natural and beautiful that lies within a person's nature; only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves, emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their agitated concern, mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to heaven for the one that leads to hell.
• the perks of being a wallflower - stephen chbosky:

Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines He wrote a poem And he called it "Chops" Because that was the name of his dog And that's what it was all about His teacher gave him an A And a gold star And his mother hung it on the kitchen door And red it to his aunts That was the year Father Tracy took all the kids to the zoo And he let them sing on the bus And his little sister was born With tiny nails and no hair And his mother and father kissed a lot And the girl around the corner sent him a Valentine signed with a row of X's And he had to ask his father what the X's meant And his father always tucked him in bed at night And was always there to do it

Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines He wrote a poem He called it "Autumn" Because that was the name of the season And that's what it was all about And his teacher gave him an A And asked him to write more clearly And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door Because of the new pain And the kids told him that Father Tracy smoked cigars And left butts on the pews And sometimes they would burn holes And that was the year his sister got glasses And the girl around the corner laughed When he asked her to go see Santa Claus And the kids told him why His mother and father kissed a lot And his father never tucked him in bed at night And his father got mad When he cried for him to do it

Once on a paper torn from his notebook He wrote a poem And he called it "Innocence: A Question" Because that was the question about his girl And that's what it was all about And his professor gave him an A And a strange steady look And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door Because he never showed her That was the year Father Tracy died And he forgot how the end Of the Apostles's Creed went And he caught his sister Making out on the back porch And his mother and father never kissed Or even talked And the girl around the corner Wore too much make-up That made him cough when he kissed her But he kissed her anyway Because it was the right thing to do And at 3 A.M. he tucked himself into bed His father snoring soundly

That's why on the back of a brown paper bag He tried another poem And he called it "Absolutely Nothing" Because that's what it was really all about And gave himself an A And a slash on each damned wrist And he hung it on the bathroom door Because this time he didn't think He could reach the kitchen...