I didn't really see why people should look at me. Plenty of people looked queerer than I did.

I love my rejection slips. They show me I try.

If you expect nothing from anybody, you’re never disappointed.

Doing all the little tricky things it takes to grow up, step by step, into an anxious and unsettling world.

Let me not be weak and tell others how bleeding I am internally; how day by day it drips, and gathers, and congeals.

All the heat and fear had purged itself. I felt surprisingly at peace. The bell jar hung suspended a few feet above my head. I was open to the circulating air.

Is anyone anywhere happy?