None of us are pretty, but our ugly has an alibi.

Yes, I like girls; Yes, I like boys; I like boys who like boys; I like girls who wear toys and girls who don't; I like girls who don't call themselves girls; Crew cuts or curls or that really bad hair phase in between.

This is my body. It is no one's but mine.

If you were to press your heart close up against somebody else’s heart eventually your hearts will start beating at the same time. And two little babies in an incubator, their hearts will beat at the same time. Love that. So if you have somebody in your life that is prone to anxiety, like myself, and if you happen to be a calm person, you could come up and hug me heart to heart and my heart hopefully would slow to yours. And I just love that idea. Or maybe yours would speed up to mine. But either way, we’ll be there together.

Everyone’s chest is a living room wall with awkwardly placed photographs hiding fist-shaped holes.

What Gods do you believe in? I'll build you a temple of mirrors so you can see them.

Our insanity is not that we see people who aren’t there. It’s that we ignore the ones who are.