“The thought of my mother talking to me about sex makes me want to stab my eyes out with a fork, gouge even deeper and scramble my brains to prevent the conversation from ever happening.”

“The thought of being with Shay Wilder makes me want to gouge my eyes out with a butter knife”

“Hank wants to have a conversation tonight. We had a conversation last night! I can’t have another conversation! He’l say shit that freaks me out because he’s, like, in my brain. We haven’t even known each other for two weeks! How can he be in my brain? It’s unreal ..”

“There is a kink in my damned brain that prevents me from thinking as other people think.”

“I was sixteen and my mother was about to throw me out of the house forever, for breaking a very big rule, even bigger than the forbidden books. The rule was not just No Sex, but definitely No Sex With Your Own Sex.”

“The thought trail one another in my brain running from the back up to the front and dripping down again under my chin: I'm no one; I'll never make it in my life; I'm about to get revealed as a fake, I've already been revealed as a fake but I don't know it yet; I know I'm a fake and pretend not to. All the good thoughts - the normal ones, the ones that have occasionally surfaced since last fall - scramble out the front of my brain in terror of what lives in my neck and spine. This is the worst it'll ever be”