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

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.

There’s nothing more dishonest than words.

Do not judge my story by the chapter you walked in on.

I’m a bird trapped in a self-made cage.

His eyes close, and he draws a long breath. When they open again, they’re colder than ever. “And that’s where you’d be disappointed, Lou.There is no good to be found in Death.

Eva’s an enigma, and she’s my enigma. My secret. My lifeline.

I think fur looks better on an animal than on a human being. So I dress my dog in a mink teddy.

The best part is coming. What’s the best part? You swallowing an entire cow whole? No. That’s the finale.

Usually, I’m only sad when something sad happens. I am not a melancholic person. I like to live very much in the present. If I was an animal, I’d be a little cat. They like to live life.

I stayed in show business to pay for my animal business.

I’m in the middle of my sixth book, which is about animals at the Los Angeles Zoo.

There is no more reason to believe that man descended from an inferior animal than there is to believe that a stately mansion has descended from a small cottage.

You know what the problem that animal activists sometimes have? They only concentrate on the heartbreaking things to the point where the general public thinks, ‘Oh, here comes those animal folks again and I’m going to hear all the things I don’t want to hear.’

Animals don’t lie. Animals don’t criticize. If animals have moody days, they handle them better than humans do.