A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort.

My brain goes very easily into the darkness. It always has. There are people who like to see what's under the rock and people who don't, and for some reason I've always been one of those to say, 'Hey, let's flip over that rock.'

Because isn’t that the point of every relationship: to be known by someone else, to be understood? He gets me. She gets me. Isn’t that the simple magic phrase?

And if all of us are play-acting, there can be no such thing as a soul mate, because we don't have genuine souls.

It's impossible to compete with the dead. I wished I could stop trying.

Dark sides are important. They should be nurtured like nasty black orchids.

My mother had always told her kids: if you're about to do something, and you want to know if it's a bad idea, imagine seeing it printed in the paper for all the world to see.