Then I break a glass and I slit my very innermost thigh so that I can pretend that I'm menstru--- well, unavailable.

Nothing in my life has ever made me want to commit suicide more than people's reaction to my trying to commit suicide.

Once upon a time is now.

I am my heart's undertaker. Daily I go and retrieve its tattered remains, place them delicately into its little coffin, and bury it in the depths of my memory, only to have to do it all again tomorrow.

I myself am not afraid of ghosts; I am afraid of people.

I've been completely fascinated with history because it tells everything about what's going to happen next because it's cyclical, everything repeats in general.

He cried when I left, which I find to be standard male behavior.