“A monster’s not a monster to another monster. At least that’s what I thought when I saw my mother-in-law talking to a statue of Stalin.”

“Don't talk to me like that! I am your mother! Oh, God the Father, I have raised a monster!”

“I balked. Another vampire? I guess it made sense; the states of the Pacific Northwest were known for their lenient monster laws.”

“The only thing that will ever be real, is this moment,' I turned to the statue, 'when you made me feel alive, when you made me feel real, when I felt like you really love me. Now? I'm just your monster, Frankie. I will always be a monster.”

“It’s the Poverty.I lack imagination you say No. I lack language. The language to clarifymy resistance to the literate. Words are a war to me. They threaten my family.To gain the word to describe the loss I risk losing everything. I may create a monster the word’s length and bodyswelling up colorful and thrillinglooming over my mother, characterized.Her voice in the distanceunintelligible illiterate.These are the monster’s words.”

“People talk of their motives in a cut and dried way. Every woman is supposed to have the same set of motives, or else to be a monster. I am not a monster but I have not felt exactly what other women feel, or say they feel, for fear of being thought unlike others.”