Over this odd world, this half the world that's dark now, I have to hunt a thing that lives on tears.

And be grateful. Our scars have the power to remind us that the past was real.

We routinely leave our small children in day care among strangers. At the same time, in our guilt we evince paranoia about strangers and foster fear in children.

I have no interest in understanding sheep, only eating them.

Whenever feasible, one should always try to eat the rude.

I love myself that much and I will never apologize to you.

I think it's easy to mistake understanding for empathy - we want empathy so badly. Maybe learning to make that distinction is part of growing up. It's hard and ugly to know somebody can understand you without even liking you.