“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.”

“There's a terrible dark joy when the only person who knows all your secrets is finally dead.”

“Everything is a self-portrait. A diary. Your whole drug history’s in a strand of your hair. Your fingernails. The forensic details. The lining of your stomach is a document. The calluses on your hand tell all your secrets. Your teeth give you away. Your accent. The wrinkles around your mouth and eyes. Everything you do shows your hand.”

“Quit try­ing to fix your life. Deal with your one big is­sue.”

“The se­cret is to not let your imag­ina­tion get car­ried away.”

“It’s so ob­vi­ous he’s try­ing to pass as a nor­mal hap­py per­son.”

“your handwriting. the way you walk. which china pattern you choose. it's all giving you away. everything you do shows your hand. everything is a self portrait. everything is a diary.”