There was no normal. There never had been. "Normal" and "natural" were the biggest lies we'd ever created.

I like to imagine there were more of us in the beginning. Not many, I suppose. But more than there are now.

Words are everything. Words give wings even to those who have been stamped upon, broken beyond all hope of repair.

I'm often daydreaming and it's because I've always liked the idea of there being something more than the normal world.

My father thought I would lead a simple life; that I was bright but unambitious, complacant with whatever work life threw at me. My father, as usual, was wrong.

Not all of us know what we are. Some of us die without ever knowing. Some of us know, and never get caught. But we're out there. Trust me.

Knowledge is dangerous. Once you know something, you can't get rid of it. You have to carry it. Always.