“Sometimes I look in the mirror and think I'm really good looking. Then other times I think my body's all wrong.”

“I think it was the first time in my life I ever felt like I looked “good”. Do you know what I mean? That nice feeling when you look in the mirror, and your hair’s right for the first time in your life? I don’t think we should base so much on weight, muscles, and a good hair day, but when it happens, it’s nice. It really is.”

“Sometimes I think it’s me. I think I must be doing something wrong, giving out subliminal messages so they can smell the desperation, read the neon lights on my forehead . . . “KEEP AWAY FROM THIS WOMAN, SHE IS LOOKING FOR COMMITMENT,” but most of the time I think it’s them. Bastards. All of them.”

“If you're anorexic, you're doing it wrong."I swat him with a dish towel. "No, no, I mean anorexics look in the mirror, and even if they're eighty pounds, they still see a fat girl. I'm a hundred pounds heavier than I was in high school, my veins are full of creme fraiche, and yet I look in the mirror, take in the hair and makeup, and think, Damn, baby, you fiiine.”

“Sometimes when I'm brushing my teeth, I'll look at the mirror and I swear my reflection seems kind of disappointed. I realized a couple of years ago that not only am I not super-skilled at anything, I'm not even particularly good at being myself.”

“I began to think that my body was the most special thing in the world. Better than other bodies, even. Not because of the way it looked, but because of all the things it could do. All the different buttons there were to push. I wanted to find out what every single one of them was. I wanted to feel as good as possible.”