“Ev­ery phone call I get fills me with joy and ter­ror since this could be the case­work­er or the killer.”

“Here in the bath­room with me are ra­zor blades. Here is io­dine to drink. Here are sleep­ing pills to swal­low. You have a choice. Live or die. Ev­ery breath is a choice. Ev­ery minute is a choice. To be or not to be.”

“Then all you can do is get lost in the tiny de­tails of ev­ery day do­ing the same tasks over and over.”

“There’s a ter­ri­ble dark joy when the on­ly per­son who knows all your se­crets is fi­nal­ly dead. Your par­ents. Your doc­tor. Your ther­apist. Your case­work­er. The sun’s out­side the bath­room win­dow try­ing to show us we’re all be­ing stupid. All you have to do is look around.”

“Ev­ery last minute of my life has been pre­or­dained, and I’m sick and tired of it.”

“Ever since college, I make friends. They get married. I lose friends.”

“I don’t want her falling in love with me as a voice on the phone while at the same time she’s try­ing to ditch me as a re­al per­son.”