Her hatred glittered irresistibly. I could see it, the jewel, it was sapphire, it was the cold lakes of Norway.

at least if you were ignorant you could do wat you wanted. you had no idea wat had been acheived in the past. you were free instead of chewed at by bleeding impotence, dissolved away like a pearl in acid

What was the point in such loneliness among people. At least if you were by yourself, you had a good reason to be lonely.

A novel is like a dream in which everyone is you. They’re all parts of yourself.

What can she possibly teach you, twenty seven names for tears?

I was tired of men. Hanging in doorways, standing too close, men who made you love them then changed their minds.

purification in fire. public cremation