Whatever made me the way I am left me hollow, empty inside, unable to feel. It doesn't seem like a big deal. I'm quite sure most people fake an awful lot of everyday human contact. I just fake it all. I fake it very well, and the feelings are never there.

I was filled with dread at the thought my mind had skipped town and left me behind to pay the rent." --Dexter

For the first time I could remember, I felt weak, woozy and stupid— like a human-being. Like a very small and helpless human-being.

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.

Nothing else loves me, or ever will. Not even - especially - me. I know what I am and that is not a thing to love.

I stood up. It was all too much. I could not even meet my own expectations, and to be asked to deal with all theirs too was suffocating.

The whole point of wearing a disguise was to be seen wearing her.