Besides, it happens fast for some people and slow for some, accidents or gravity, but we all end up mutilated.

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.

When I see people talking on the internet about me or my work it's almost always more a description of themselves and so I never really think of myself as anything more than just who I always was.

The first time we meet another person an insidious little voice in our heads says, "I might wear eyeglasses or be chunky around the hips or a girl, but at least I'm not Gay or Black or a Jew." Meaning: I may be me- but at least I have the good sense not to be YOU.

The voice says, maybe you don't go to hell for the things you do. Maybe you go to hell for the things you don't do. The things you don't finish.

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

Find out what you're afraid of and go live there.