The loneliness of another can be shocking when it lays itself bare without warning.

I have a lot of rage about things that didn't happen to me, tied up with watching an immigrant, working-class father struggle to make his way through the world - and seeing how society was modeled to keep him in his place.

She was afraid of all that and so much more, but what terrified her most was inside of her, an insect of unnatural intelligence who’d been living in her brain her entire life, playing with it, clicking across it, wrenching loose its cables on a whim.

I normally can't stand vice-free people. They conflate a narcissistic instinct for self-preservation with moral superiority. Plus, they suck the life right out of a party.

This world can only give me reminders of what I don't have, can never have, didn't have for long enough.

What molds us is what maims us.

There are threads in our lives. You pull one, and everything else gets affected.