Everyone on this island wants something kept quiet. I want to roar

Once upon a time, Sleeping Beauty decided to take a nap from which she would never wake up.

Wold domination is exhausting and cliche. People ought to just focus on being individual responsible citizens of the earth instead of assholes.

I figured being a bed salesman was a job of biblically bad paradox. I mean, here he was, forced to stand for eight or nine hours a day, and the whole time he’s surrounded by beds. And not only that, he’s surrounded by shoppers who see the beds and can’t help but think, Man, I’d love to lie down on that bed for a second. So not only does he have to stop himself from lying down, but he has to stop everyone else from doing it, too. I knew if I were him, I would be desperate for human company.

But I know the difference. Everyone else is a ghost. I exist here alone, stranded by choice. Deserted.

It broke the spell. It's not that I stopped being happy. I was still inexplicably, utterly happy. But suddenly the happiness had implications.

There is no such thing as a soulmate...and who would want there to be? I don't want half of a shared soul. I want my own damn soul.