I don't want to hurt myself. I want to stop hurting.

I just think that fiction that isn't exploring what it means to be human today isn't art.

Everything in my own immediate experience supports my deep belief that I am the absolute center of the universe, the realest, most vivid and important person in existence.

Not that that mystical stuff's necessarily true: The only thing that's capital-T true is that you get to decide how you're going to try to see it.

You are what you love. No? You are, completely and only, what you would die for without, as you say, the thinking twice.

Scenery is here. Wish you were beautiful.

Mary had a little lamb, its fleece electrostatic / And everywhere Mary went, the lights became erratic.