When I first submerged my feet into frigid water, they hurt so badly I yanked them out again. I persisted, dunking them for longer and longer periods, until the cold finally blistered.

With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not.

Why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?

I just think I'm better equipped to make a study of human personality than trying to get into the mind of animals.

Then I lie down on the horse blanket and drift into a dream about Marlena that will probably cost me my soul.

When will people learn that just because you can make something doesn’t mean you should?

Although, pretending not to notice is almost worse than noticing.