If we can send a person to the moon, we can send someone with AIDS to the moon, and then someday we can send everybody with AIDS to the moon.

I'm all sentimental. I've probably been ruined by romantic movies, but I really do believe in love. I've experienced it, I've had it, so I know it's real.

My stepfather, John O'Hara, was the goodest man there was. He was not a man of many words, but of carefully chosen ones. He was the one parent who didn't try to fix me. One night I sat on his lap in his chair by the wood stove, sobbing. He just held me quietly and then asked only, "What does it feel like?" It was the first time I was prompted to articulate it. I thought about it, then said, "I feel homesick." That still feels like the most accurate description - I felt homesick, but I was home.

I have a ton of Holocaust stuff, and some of it is really hard core.

I gave him a compliment! All right, I told him he probably would've made, like, a really expensive slave in the, like, in the olden-timey days.

I was paralyzed with fear. It was unbearable to be among other kids who were just standing around being fine. It was one of the many inconveniences of this paradox I lived with -the more people I was surrounded by, the more frighteningly alone I felt.

Being with friends felt like a burden. I remember just sobbing.