I fear oblivion. I fear it like the proverbial blind man who's afraid of the dark.

I leave, and the leaving is so exhilarating I know I can never go back. But then what? Do I just keep leaving places, and leaving them, and leaving them, tramping a perpetual journey?

You're not going to impose the patriarchal paradigm on me.

Her primary reason for living and my primary reason for living were awfully entangled.

If you don't live a life in service of a greater good, you've gotta at least die a death in service of a greater good, you know? And I fear that I won't get either a life or a death that means anything.

I tried to tell myself that it could be worse, that the world was not a wish-granting factory, that I was living with cancer not dying of it, that I mustn't let it kill me before it kills me.

Nerdighters make me believe in America again.