I can love only what I can place so high above me that I cannot reach it.
All the hardest, coldest people you meet,
were once as soft as water.
And that’s the tragedy of living.
You are a woman. Skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat. You are not made of metaphors. Not apologies, not excuses.
You guys know about vampires? … You know, vampires have no reflections in a mirror? There’s this idea that monsters don’t have reflections in a mirror. And what I’ve always thought isn’t that monsters don’t have reflections in a mirror. It’s that if you want to make a human being into a monster, deny them, at the cultural level, any reflection of themselves. And growing up, I felt like a monster in some ways. I didn’t see myself reflected at all.
Other people are not medicine.
How do you get so empty? Who takes it out of you?
I detest the masculine point of view. I am bored by his heroism, virtue, and honour. I think the best these men can do is not talk about themselves anymore.
It’s amazing how words can do that, just shred your insides apart.
There is no shame in being hungry for another person.