Love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, love me, I'll be anybody you want me to be. Use me. Change me. I can be thin with big breasts and big hair. Take me apart. Make me into anything, but just love me.

Every time we burn a gallon of gas or an acre of rain forest, aren't we killing the future to preserve the present?

Someday you will die, and until you know that, you're useless to me.

Maybe self-improvement isn't the answer, maybe self-destruction is the answer.

My stories tend to bring people from isolation into community - with at least one other person, usually with a whole community of people - so that they find themselves accepted back by a world that they kind of fled from.

If we can forgive what’s been done to us... If we can forgive what we’ve done to others... If we can leave all of our stories behind. Our being villains or victims. Only then can we maybe rescue the world.

How I feel is cheap and used, dirty and humiliated. Dirty and tricked and thrown away.