Sometimes the briefest moments capture us, force us to take them in, and demand that we live the rest of our lives in reference to them.

I treated despair in terms of hierarchy: if there was a more important pain in the world, it meant my own was negated. I thought I simply had to accept the fact that I was ugly, and that to feel despair about it was simply wrong.

I began a lifelong affair with nostalgia, with only the vaguest notions of what I was nostalgic for.

Partly I was honing my self-consciousness into a torture device, sharp and efficient enough to last me the rest of my life.

Sometimes the briefest moments capture us, force us to take them in, and demand that we live the rest of our lives in reference to them.

I used to think that once you really knew a thing, its truth would shine on forever. Now it's pretty obvious to me that more often than not the batteries fade, and sometimes what you knew even goes out with a bang when you try and call on it, just like a light bulb cracking off when you throw the switch.

Part of the job of being human is to consistently underestimate our effect on other people.