What I hate is the thought of being under a man's thumb," I had told Doctor Nolan. "A man doesn't have a worry in the world, while I've got a baby hanging over my head like a big stick, to keep me in line.

I have a violence in me that is hot as death-blood.

I laid my face to the smooth face of the marble and howled my loss into the cold salt rain.

If they substituted the word 'Lust' for 'Love' in the popular songs it would come nearer the truth.

I'm sarcastic, skeptical, and sometimes callous because I'm still afraid, deep down, of letting myself be hurt.

Once one has seen God, what is the remedy?

I feel occasionally my skull will crack, fatigue is continuous - I only go from less exhausted to more exhausted & back again.