I inhabit the wax image of myself, a doll's body. Sickness begins here; I am a dartboard for witches.

Well, I know now. I know a little more how much a simple thing like a snowfall can mean to a person

To look at her, you might not guess that inside she is laughing and crying, at her own stupidities and luckiness, and at the strange enigmatic ways of the world which she will spend lifetime trying to learn and understand.

And there's the fallacy of existence: the idea that one could be happy forever and age with a given situation or series of accomplishments.

In spite of everything, I still have my good old sense of humor.

Oh what a poet I will flay myself into.

I felt myself melting into the shadows like the negative of a person I'd never seen before in my life.