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“I wonder if anyone really identifies as the adult they’ve morphed into. I remember being sixteen and feeling eleven. I remember thinking, how could I be a teenager? I remember finishing high school and thinking, am I grown now? Is this what it feels like? I feel the same as I did before.”
― Emily R. Austin, Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead

“I wish that I find something distracting enough to occupy my mind with thoughts unrelated to the futility of my existence, or that I die in the least disruptive way possible for my family.”
― Emily R. Austin, Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead

“I am trapped inside this fragile body. I could be run off the road. I could be crushed by a van. I could choke on a grape. I could be allergic to bees; I am so impermanent that a measly bug could hop from a daisy to my arm, sting me, and I could be erased. Black. Nothing.”
― Emily Austin, Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead

“I can't muster the energy required to be a positive part of anyone's life. I can't even muster the energy to apologize for that.”
― Emily R. Austin, Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead