I have lived one step away from losing my mind for years. I am quick and accurate in spotting unstable streaks in others.

I often cried when I got angry; I hated that. Crying just made you look weak, no matter what triggered it.

The night swelled with magic; not the beneficent kind of love-magic that sweeps couples away, but the kind of magic that rips and tears, the enchantment that creeps out of the woods and pounces.

You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.

It was one of God's jokes that such a dumb mind had been put in such an eloquent body.

For awhile I taped soap operas and watched them at night when I thought I might be forgetting what it was like to be human. After a while I stopped, because from the examples I saw on those shows, forgetting humanity was a good thing.

I love you,” Bill said helplessly, as if he wished those magic words would heal me. But he knew they wouldn’t. “That’s what you all keep saying,” I answered. “But it doesn’t seem to get me any happier.