“They love their hair because they’re not smart enough to love something more interesting.”

You gave me a forever within the numbered days, and I’m grateful.

The pleasure of remembering had been taken from me, because there was no longer anyone to remember with.

It would be a privilege to have my heart broken by you.

The town was paper, but the memories were not.

Everything that comes together falls apart.

You like someone who can’t like you back because unrequited love can be survived in a way that once-requited love cannot.

I ran like a cheetah – well, like a cheetah that smoked too much.

You don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world but you do have some say in who hurts you. I like my choices.

Whatever you’re worried about, you’re bigger than the worries.

Sometimes you lose a battle. But mischief always wins the war.

What’s the meaning of life? Other people.

Not that smart. Not that hot. Not that nice. Not that funny. That’s me: I’m not that.

Books so special and rare and yours that advertising your affection feels like a betrayal.

We all use the future to escape the present.

We’re as likely to hurt the universe as we are to help it, and we’re not likely to do either.

What is the point of being alive if you don’t at least try to do something remarkable?

I’ve always had really messy hair.

Nothing feels better than switching wigs for no reason.

I grew up dying my hair with Kool-Aid. I used to switch my hair up every day just to make myself look and feel good.

I do like my hair. It took a while to come around to the fact that it was quite a unique value point.

I’m undaunted in my quest to amuse myself by constantly changing my hair.

I don’t have a primary doctor, a primary hairstylist, a primary anything. I don’t even have a primary address! Everything is just whenever I can find one.

I’ve always loved playing with hair. I used to want dreads like Lauryn Hill, but my mom wouldn’t let me.

I have over a hundred wigs, I like to change them damn near every hour.