“Funny how being fucked isn’t nearly as pleasing as I remember.”

Darkness watches me from every angle. My only friend. From its own place within the silence, it speaks to me in a strange way.

I never claimed to be a predator, but right now she’s certainly the prey.

He was unhinged. Shameless. Everything wrong and everything right. And he held the key to my cage in his palm.

I may be unhinged, but I’m constantly working to channel my urges. It never stops, the self-restraint, the need for more.

It’s just a question. A question whose answer no longer has the power to hurt me.

Maybe I’ve dragged myself through the mud since then, but even mud hardens beneath your shoes. I must be standing on a mountain of it by now. And no one can touch me from way the hell up here.

Heartache is my constant companion, and we’re perfect for one another. Two co-dependent peas in a pod. My past and my future.

Gifts are meant to be wrapped. Honestly, it’s basic etiquette.

Hatred’s the fuel that keeps me alive.

I quickly learned I needed someone who specifically enjoyed, or at the very least could take it, when I hit that point of blinding release. Every time, I lost all sense of the control I work so hard at maintaining.

We have no use for people who don’t want to be here.

Doesn’t he know I want everything? And in return, I’ll give him all of me.

Crawl inside this body, find me where I am most ruined— love me there.

Like I’m a puzzle to be worked out and he’s got all damn day.

Maybe she’d try to understand that the dark images muddled my brain until it hurt, until I had no choice but to let them out.

All the hardest, coldest people you meet were once as soft as water. And that’s the tragedy of living.

The world’s most funniest and easiest thing is to give an advice.

We made a plan at school to meet in her garage and kiss. It was like this little business deal. I kissed her and then I ran home

If I loved a guy as much as I love my dog, the guy would be in serious trouble because I’m all over that dog, all of the time.

Get your priorities straight. No one ever said on his death bed, ‘Gee, if I’d only spent more time at the office.’

I would like to look funny on screen, doing comedy.

[On the ringing of her doorbell or telephone:] What fresh hell is this?

If I get writer’s block – this is going to sound funny – I take a shower. Something about the water feels like I’m cleaning my brain as well as my body.

How do Ferrari know what I’m doing next year when I don’t know what I’m doing next week?