All the same, my depression and self-hatred, my desire to mutilate myself with broken bottles, my numbness and crying fits, my inability to get out of bed for days and days, the feeling of the world moving in to crush me, went on and on. But I knew I wouldn't go mad, even if that release, that letting-go, was a freedom I desired. I was waiting for myself to heal.

Love cannot be measured by its duration.

Being in love means being at the mercy of someone's childhood.

England has become a squalid, uncomfortable, ugly place ... an intolerant, racist, homophobic, narrow-minded, authoritarian, rat-hole run by vicious, suburban-minded, materialistic philistines.

What a quality of innocence people have when they don't expect to be harmed.

You don't stop loving someone just because you hate them.

I've never had any desire to be good. I don't like goodness particularly.