The world is a big place," he said, "but so is the inside of an apartment!

I am not sad, he would repeat to himself over and over, I am not sad. As if he might one day convince himself. Or fool himself. Or convince others -- The only thing worse than being sad is for others to know that you are sad.

It was the first time I had ever made love. I wondered if he knew that. It felt like crying. I wondered, Why does anyone ever make love?

I hope you never think about anything as much as I think about you.

I took the world into me, rearranged it, and sent it back out as a question: "Do you like me?

The animals are those things that God likes but doesn't love.

We shared the smile of recognizing ourselves in each other, how many imposters do I have? Do we all make the same mistakes, or has one of us gotten it right, or even just a bit less wrong, am I the imposter?