The Word Rattled In My Head Like

My Hatred Gives Me Strength.

The Cake Had A Trick Candle That Wouldn't Go Out, So I Didn't Get My Wish. Which Was Just That It Would Always Be Like This, That My Life Could Be A Party Just For Me.

Let Me Tell You A Few Things About Regret...there Is No End To It. You Cannot Find The Beginning Of The Chain That Brought Us From There To Here. Should You Regret The Whole Chain, And The Air In Between, Or Each Link Separately As If You Could Uncouple Them? Do You Regret The Beginning Which Ended So Badly, Or Just The Ending Itself?

Do You Ever Want To Go Home?' I Asked Paul. He Brushed An Ash From My Face. 'it's The Century Of The Displaced Person,' He Said. 'you Can Never Go Home.

Beauty Was Deceptive. I Would Rather Wear My Pain, My Ugliness. I Was Torn And Stitched. I Was A Strip Mine, And They Would Just Have To Look. I Hoped I Made Them Sick. I Hoped They Saw Me In Their Dreams.