“This means nothing,” she said.“Less than nothing,” he lied.“I’ll hate myself later.”“I hate myself now.”

“Still, I hate them. But, of course, I hate almost everybody now. Myself more than anyone.”

“When I did finally speak, I surprised myself by saying exactly what was on my mind.
“You must hate me.”She stared a long time at me.I did,” she said slowly, “But it’s mostly myself I hate.”Don’t,” I said.And why the hell shouldn’t I hate myself? Everybody else hates me.”

“I hate myself I hate myself I hate this I hate this I disgust myself I hate it I hate it I hate it just let me fucking die.”

“Where is my chance to be somebody's Peter Van Houten?' He hit the steering wheel weakly, the car honking as he cried. He leaned his head back, looking up. 'I hate myself I hate myself I hate this I hate this I disgust myself I hate it I hate it I hate it just let me fucking die.”

“I should say no to prove a point. But I would hate myself later if I said no and you never asked me again.”