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I might never solve my own mother’s murder, but this program would turn me into the kind of person who could catch killers, who could make sure that another little girl, in another life, with another mother, would never have to see what I had seen.

You could tell more about a stranger by seeing their house than you ever would by inviting them to yours.

Tenderly, it seemed almost painfully, they smiled at one another, saying nothing, and their questions were the same, am I the one you think about, when we made love were you happy, have I hurt you, do you love me, will you always.

What if I’m the one who can’t let myself be happy ? Because I’m scared, or I prefer to wallow in self pity, or I don’t believe I deserve good things, or some other reason. Whenever something good happens to me I always find myself thinking : I wonder how long it will be until this turns out badly.

Having thought about it just now, I think the beauty industry is responsible for some of the worst ugliness we see around us in our visual environment, and the worst, most false aesthetic ideal, which is the ideal of consumerism.

Jesus Christ Simon I fucking hate you

All my filial duties are nothing but a series of rituals on my part designed to shield myself from criticism while giving nothing of myself away. […] Because in my deepest essence I am just an artefact of our culture, just a little bubble sinking at the brim of our civilisation. And when it’s gone, I’ll be gone.

And we hate people for making mistakes so much more than we love them for doing good that the easiest way to live is to do nothing, say nothing and love no one. […]

I was tired, it was late, I was sitting half-asleep in the back of a taxi, remembering strangely that wherever I go, you are with me, and so is he, and that as long as you both live the world will be beautiful to me.

If God wanted me to give you up, he wouldn’t have made me who I am