One of the things that often gets lost in discussions of depression is that you know it's ridiculous. You know it's ridiculous while you're experiencing it. You know that most people manage to listen to their messages, and eat lunch, and organise themselves to take a shower and go out the front door, and that it's not a big deal. And yet you are nonetheless in its grip and you are unable to figure out any way around it.

Depression is the flaw in love. There's no such thing as love without the anticipation of loss. And that specter of despair can be the engine of intimacy.

The tragedies that are being brought about vastly outweigh the benefits that are being achieved.

Oppression breeds the power to oppose it.

I encounter a lot of prejudice and a lot of darkness. I have to negotiate constantly through situations that are uncomfortable or difficult or strange.

The absence of marriages will result in all kinds of financial burdens that gay people wouldn't face if they could get married.

Life is enriched by difficulty; love is made more acute when it requires exertion.