I see depression as an exponentially developed version of a human condition. Meaning I always think in the end it's humanizing. People who never suffer from depression I find suspect. I assume Donald Trump is not a sufferer from depression.

There's something stubborn about families, unhappy ones in particular: they outlive themselves, and then they live on.

No bill of sexual rights can hold its own against the lawless, untamable landscape of the erotic imagination.

I think the experience of depression that I most think remains true throughout the years is it's very isolating. That to me is its strongest quality. That you're alone in a room, that you're cut off, you're just sort of stuck with it. It puts up a wall.

Much as I try to disguise myself, there is never a time when I'm not aware of being overweight.

Naturally, our own irrational demands strike us as having the force of needs, while other people's needs strike us as capricious indulgences.

How much simpler it would be all around if you could put your mind in a cast, like a broken ankle, and elicit murmurings of sympathy from other people instead of skepticism (“You can’t really be feeling as bad as all that”) and in some cases outright hostility (“Maybe if you stopped thinking about yourself so much ”).