We are all sentenced to solitary confinement inside our own skins, for life.

Kill off all my demons and my angels might die too.

Time rushes towards us with its hospital tray of infinitely varied narcotics, even while it is preparing us for its inevitably fatal operation.

We've had this date with each other from the beginning.

Don't look forward to the day you stop suffering, because when it comes you'll know you're dead.

Only some radical change can divert the downward course of my spirit, some startling new place or people to arrest the drift, the drag.

I'm not living with you. We occupy the same cage. (Maggie)