What do you do when your entire identity is destroyed in an instant? How do you cope when your whole life story turns out to bw wrong?

How folks lay claim to a loved one is they give you a name of their own. They figure to label you as their property.

I've met God across his long walnut desk with his diplomas hanging on the wall behind him, and God asks me, 'Why?' Why did I cause so much pain? Didn't I realize that each of us is a sacred, unique snowflake of special unique specialness? Can't I see how we're all manifestations of love? I look at God behind his desk, taking notes on a pad, but God's got this all wrong. We are not special. We are not crap or trash, either. We just are. We just are, and what happens just happens. And God says, 'No, that's not right.' Yeah. Well. Whatever. You can't teach God anything.

Worker bees can leave. Even drones can fly away. The Queen is their slave.

Recycling and speed limits are bullshit. They're like someone who quits smoking on his deathbed.

I wanted to destroy everything beautiful I'd never have.

Picture anybody growing up so stupid he didn't know that hope is just another phase you'll grow out of.