I can’t tell anymore when I’m asleep and when I’m awake, or which is worse.

I believe that you've created a metaphorical universe in which you can express your darkest fears. In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves, and sometimes we do such a good job, we lose track of reality.

I want to make a memorial for our turkey. Never has a bird been so tortured to provide such a lousy dinner.

You hurt her by starving yourself, you hurt her with your lies, and by fighting everybody who tries to help you. Emma can only sleep a couple of hours a night now. She's haunted by nightmares of monsters that eat our whole family. They eat us slowly, she says, so we can feel their sharp teeth.

It's a shame we can't just admit that we failed family living, sell the house, split up the money, and get on with our lives.

She looks like a china doll, observed Grandfather as we departed. I will break just as easily, I muttered.

IT happened. There is no avoiding it, no forgetting. No running away, or flying, or burying, or hiding.