You always take the extra step that others don’t, that’s who you are.
Yes, you need your evidence. I hope I have enough poison left in me.
Who would I be without Amy to react to? Because she was right: As a man, I had been my most impressive when I loved her -- and I was my next best self when I hated her.
Whenever i see new stories about children who were killed by their own parents i think ... but how could it be? They cared enough to give this kid a name, They had a moment at least one moment when th...
When we got home, she’d trail off to her room like an unfinished sentence, and I would sit outside with my face pressed against her door and replay the day in my head, searching for clues to what I’d...
What can I say about a man who knows how I think and still sleeps next to me with the lights off?
We weren't ourselves when we fell in love, and when we became ourselves - surprise! - we were poison. We complete each other in the nastiest, ugliest possible way.
We complete each other in the nastiest, ugliest possible way.
The bad guy wins? Fuck him.
The Mexicans get the shittiest, most dangerous jobs, and the whites still complain.
The Day women were the definition of mob mentality. And here they were on a farm with plenty of pitchforks.
Sleep is like a cat: It only comes to you if you ignore it. I drank more and continued my mantra.
She was wearing a black pantsuit with a pale pink turtleneck underneath, a painfully aspirational look for a stripper.
She was clearly rich. Her handbag was too plain to be anything but incredibly expensive.
She talked to me because we had the same chemicals in our blood: shame, anger, greed. Unjustified nostalgia. I
She made pronouncements: I like ponies. I hate spaghetti. I hate you. Like her mother, she had no poker face. No poker mood. It was all right there. When she wasn’t angry or sad, she just didn’t say m...
Porque no se puede estar tan enamorados como lo estuvimos nosotros sin que ese amor te invada hasta el tuétano. Nuestro amor puede entrar en remisión, pero siempre sigue ahí, esperando para regresar....
Plus, there was Amma and her mysterious friendliness toward me. I hated to admit it, but I was becoming obsessed with the girl.
People always were , they always wanted to know, what kind of women gets slaughtered by her own son?
My mother said she was the most popular girl in school, and I believed it. Jackie said she was the meanest, and I believed that, too.