“Does somebody have an explanation why there's human flesh on the hall window upstairs?”
“Why does he have to be my boyfriend? Are you inferior if you don't have a boyfriend? Why does everybody have to be in love with somebody?”
“Why does everybody have to be with somebody? It’s a stupid delusion and a really pathetic way of thinking.”
“Why does loving somebody mean you have to hurt them just as much? I mean if that’s the way it goes, what’s the point of loving someone? Why the hell does it have to be like that?”
“The language of my love does not belong to human language, my human body does not touch the flesh of my love.”
“There are houses in Gloucester where grooves have been worn into the floorboards by women pacing past an upstairs window, looking out to sea.”