The easiest lies to tell are the ones you want to be true.

So I'm scared, because you're not just not human, you're not like anyone....there's nobody like you in all the world and it's you I want. I want you and I hate wanting things and I especially hate admitting I want them.

If curiosity killed the cat, it was satisfaction that brought it back.

Once someone's hurt you, it's harder to relax around them, harder to think of them as safe to love. But it doesn't stop you from wanting them.

Memory is slippery. It bends to our understanding of the world, twists to accommodate our prejudices. It is unreliable. Witnesses seldom remember the same things. They identify the wrong people. They give us the details of events that never happened. Memory is slippery, but my memories suddenly feel slipperier.

Crippled things are always more beautiful. It's the flaw that brings out beauty.

I have no memory of climbing the stairs up to the roof. I don't even know how to get where I am, which is a problem since I'm going to have to get down, ideally in a way that doesn't involve dying.