I've been accused of being very vain about my apathy.

I think a lot of snowflakes are alike...and I think a lot of people are alike too.

I tried to make meat loaf out of the girl but it becomes too frustrating a task and instead I spend the afternoon smearing her meat all over the walls, chewing on strips of skin I ripped from her body

It's because you're always fighting sentiment. You're fighting sentimentality all of the time because being a mother alerts you in such a primal way.

Why was I holding on to something that would never be mine? But isn't that what people do?

The better you look, the more you see.

We buy balloons, we let them go.