Who becomes you? No one. No one should become me. When I die, I don't want my body or soul inhabited. I wouldn't wish me on anyone.

You would never understand, Kim. You think I'm normal; you wish I was.

Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.

They didn't guarantee you'd come out a whole person.

People don't change. There are two kinds of people in the world: winners and losers. Black and white. I don't know where gray fits in, or if you can even live in that shade.

As they were carting him off on a gurney, all I could think was, I wish that was me.

Why are people so cruel? What did I ever do to them?