“That’s what I tell peo­ple. My of­fi­cial ver­sion of the truth.”

“I mean it wasn’t an empty hole, there was al­ways some­thing in it, but it was never right. It never fit. I went to col­lege for a short time, until I sat back one day and said to my­self: An­drew, what the fuck are you doing here? And it clicked in my head that I wasn’t there be­cause it’s what I wanted, I was there be­cause it’s what peo­ple ex­pected, even peo­ple I don’t know, so­ci­ety. It’s what peo­ple do.”

“The main thing I wor­ry about in pub­lic is maybe peo­ple can tell I’m a sur­vivor.”

“-Do you see that?
-Yeah, what is it?
-That’s the truth.
-How can you tell it’s the truth?
-Because it’s ugly.”

“That’s not true. I love you more than my life, Pigeon,” he said, hurt.“That’s exactly what I mean. That’s crazy talk.”“It’s not crazy. It’s the truth.”

“In my mind my obituary is done.It is done and it is right. It tells the truth and as awful as it can be, the truth is what matters. It is what I should be remembered by, if I'm remembered at all. Remember the truth. that is all that matters”