She is angle. I am curve. Together, we are geometric sculpture, and we make perfect sense.

The Screaming flashed me back to a time when mom and dad were still together if you could call miles apart together.

Torch every book. Burn every page. Char every word to ash. Ideas are incombustible. And therein lies your real fear.

I told her about the man, not my daddy, she said, He was only making you into a real girl. I didn’t understand. But I made myself believe her. I was a real girl now. But what was I before?

When did creating a flawless facade become a more vital goal than learning to love the person who lives inside your skin?

Smile. Nod. Say something witty before he finds out what an incredible geek you are.

I mean, if you're gonna purposely lose your mind, you want to get it back some day. Don't you? Okay, maybe not.