“There's a mathematics to nesting, I'm sure, that explains how length of stay + space available = accumulating way too much stuff.”
“And another way of explaining it is to say that shit happens, and there's no space too small, too dark and airless and fucking hopeless, for people to crawl into.”
“I love you far too much, I'm sure. But I don't know how to love you any other way.”
“There's too much of that where-every-prospect-pleases-and-only-man-is-vile stuff buzzing around for my taste.”
“I'm not sure I can explain it. I have all this raw emotion inside for you and sometimes I'm not sure what to do with it. I'm afraid if I let it out it will be too overwhelming for you and for me.”
“Partners:Tied together by stuff too difficult to explain to someone new”