No reason to be angry. Anger just distracts from the all-encompassing sadness.

It's a metaphor, see: You put the killing thing right between your teeth, but you don't give it the power to do its killing.

I think people who are religious are more likely to want one around, but it's a very secular position.

At the end, we brought her to New York, where I was living, for a series of experimental tortures that increased the misery of her days without increasing the number of them.

Anyway, that was the last good day I had with Gus until the Last Good Day.

In English, we don't have a word for people who aren't virgins. What the non-virgin lexical gap really made me think was that our obsession with sexual purity is such that once you are no longer this THING, you are indescribable.

I came to the conclusion a while ago that there is nothing romantic or supernatural about loving someone: Love is the privilege of being responsible for another. It was, for a time, what kept me going: Each morning, for a little while, I got to feel the weight of the yoke on my back as I pulled the ancient cart of my species.