I let go. Lost in oblivion. Dark and silent and complete. I found freedom. Losing all hope was freedom.

I used to work in a funeral home to feel good about myself, just the fact that I was breathing.

You gain power by pretending to be weak. By contrast, you make people feel strong. You save people by letting them save you.

People who don't want to get on with their lives, and don't want to accept responsibility for the direction of their lives want to hang out with other people who don't want to accept responsibility or move on, and so you find that your entire culture around you are people who are just like you, because that's what's comforting.

This is the worst problem with living history museums. They always leave the best parts out. Like typhus. And opium. And scarlet letters. Shunning. Witch-burning.

To see how boring you really are, write a book about soap and cults, and the profits you make will be your only means of subsistence.

I might be a touch of a sadist and a little bit jejune... but at least I'm not a victim, not any longer. I hope. I hope, therefore I am.