I have periods now, like normal girls; I too am among the knowing, I too can sit out volleyball games and go to the nurse's for aspirin and waddle along the halls with a pad like a flattened rabbit tail wadded between my legs, sopping with liver-colored blood.

The biggest debt is always the government debt; it's always debt that government has run up on your behalf.

There's something to be said for hunger: at least it lets you know you're still alive.

They will not let you have peace, they don't want you to have anything they don't have themselves.

Once a month I wake in the night, slippery with terror. I'm afraid, not because there's someone in the room, in the dark, in the bed, but because there isn't. I'm afraid of the emptiness, which lies beside me like a corpse.

I tend to feel if people say they're going to do something, they will, if given the chance.

Mary Baker Eddy is said to have had a phone installed in her coffin just in case she happened to wake up. I've been told that's an urban myth. Somebody should check it out.