“It wasn't until I had buried my face in my pillow that I realized I should probably be alarmed that someone was in my room. What with evil trolls trying to kidnap me and all that.”

“It felt like I'd only just fallen asleep when someone shook me awake. I pushed the person off, snuggling deeper in my covers.It wasn't until I had buried my face in my pillow that I realized I should probably be alarmed that someone was in my room. What with evil trolls trying to kidnap me and all that.”

“I lay down on the bed clasping the pictures and buried my face in the pillow in a vain attempt at silencing my sobs. But it was as if all my life's accumulated grief had finally found an outlet and was allowed to take its course. I screamed, I cried, until the grief became bearable. (174)”

“I tried to look at writing a song almost like solving a mystery. The song was there, buried somewhere in my brain. All I had to do was follow the clues until I figured it out.”

“That ain't me, that ain't my face. It wasn't even me when I was trying to be that face. I wasn't even really me them; I was just being the way I looked, the way people wanted.”

“Dear God!”I screamed and buried my face in my pillow.“What?!” I heard him ask. “Did you see a roach?”“Why are you naked?!” I did not dare to lift my red face.“Huh. Is that all?” he asked. “I always sleep in the buff. I don't know how you can stand all that clothing.”“Unbelievable.” I said, and without looking at him I pulled myself up and stomped to the bathroom.”