You're the only person I've ever met who can stand a bookstore as long as I can.

I can see myself watching him shave every morning. And at other time I see us in that house and see how one bright day (or a day like this, so cold your mind shifts every time the wind does) he will wake up and decide it's all wrong. I'm sorry, he'll say. I have to leave now.

We're accepted as long as we conform to what we are expected to be, and I'm sure that's not any different for anyone else.

Our relationship wasn't the sun, the moon, the stars, but it wasn't bullshit, either.

Anger has a way of returning.

If you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level any reflection of themselves

Privilege does not operate without silence.