“At my last birthday party I had fun and really let myself go. Literally. I opened the cages where I keep my clones and I let myself go, all 333 versions of myself.”

“This week or last week, I don't really care about it anymore. I write myself this later, I tell myself you let me go.”

“I need to protect myself from myself. And my clone.”

“When I go to a restaurant and they say, “How many in your party?” and I say, “One,” I feel sad because one is not really a party. But me and my 32 clones don’t let that stop us from enjoying myselves.”

“I haven’t had a birthday party in a while, probably because I’m not really into celebrating myself. Especially not for an achievement (the creation of me) that I did not contribute too.”

“It was time to expect more of myself. Yet as I thought about happiness, I kept running up against paradoxes. I wanted to change myself but accept myself. I wanted to take myself less seriously -- and also more seriously. I wanted to use my time well, but I also wanted to wander, to play, to read at whim. I wanted to think about myself so I could forget myself. I was always on the edge of agitation; I wanted to let go of envy and anxiety about the future, yet keep my energy and ambition.”