Life's only obligation, afterall, was to be interesting.

Me, feeling. What a concept.

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.

Why bother inflicting enormous pain on yourself when sooner or later Life would certainly get around to doing it for you?

For my part, my interest in Paris had faded away completely long ago when I learned that it was in France.

I know family comes first, but shouldn't that mean after breakfast?

Killing makes me feel good.