But what could I do? Be stupid for a while? I wasn't sure I knew how, even after so many years of careful observation.

I mean, really: what kind of person could possibly dislike me?

Getting yelled at by a furious woman should be treated as a semiformal occasion.

I am unlovable...I have tried to involve myself in other people, in relationships, and even - in my sillier moments - in love. But it doesn't work. Something in me is broken or missing and sooner or later the other person catches me Acting or one of Those Nights comes along.

It’s like, everything really is two ways, the way we all pretend it is and the way it really is

Money to me had always been merely something the sheep used to show each other how wonderful they were.

As I've said, freedom is really an illusion. Anytime we think we have a real choice, it just means we haven't seen the shotgun aimed at our navel.