What separates us from the animals, what separates us from the chaos, is our ability to mourn people we’ve never met.

And I told you: I think of a photograph you took of me, up in Montreal. You told me to jump in the air, so in the picture, my feet are off the ground. Later, I asked you why you wanted me to do that, and you told me it was the only way to get me to forget about the expression on my face. You were right. I am completely unposed, completely genuine. In my mind’s eye, I picture myself like that, reacting to you.

... I love books about freaks," because I am one. You might be, too. Let's be freaks together?

Even if you were green and had a beard and a male appendage between your legs. Even if your eyebrows were orange and you had a mole covering your entire cheek and a nose that poked me in the eye every time I kissed you. Even if you weighed seven hundred pounds and had hair the size of a Doberman under your arms. Even then, I would love you.

The minute I knew I was in love was the minute when there was no question about it.

It's not the easy things that let you get to know a person.

These words are now mine, but soon they’ll be ours.