“I’m at a point in my life where I feel like I can’t go anywhere. Maybe I’ll try to coax my cat off my lap so I can get up and move.”

“I’m 30-years-old, and I still can’t get out from under my father’s shadow. He’s really tall, so maybe I’ll just ask him to move over a few feet.”

“I’m afraid I’ll never get over him. I’m afraid that I’ll spend the rest of my life wanting someone I can’t have. I have to get over him. I need to get over him.”

“In India, I was living in a little hut, about six feet by seven feet. It had a canvas flap instead of a door. I was sitting on my bed meditating, and a cat wandered in and plopped down on my lap. I took the cat and tossed it out the door. Ten seconds later it was back on my lap. We got into a sort of dance, this cat and I...I tossed it out because I was trying to meditate, to get enlightened. But the cat kept returning. I was getting more and more irritated, more and more annoyed with the persistence of the cat. Finally, after about a half-hour of this coming in and tossing out, I had to surrender. There was nothing else to do. There was no way to block off the door. I sat there, the cat came back in, and it got on my lap. But I did not do anything. I just let go. Thirty seconds later the cat got up and walked out. So, you see, our teachers come in many forms.”

“Once again, I don’t quite know where I’m headed Steph. It seems thatevery few years I’m shoveling up the pieces of my life and starting fromscratch all over. No matter what I do or how hard I try I can’t seem to reachthe dizzy heights of happiness, success, and security, like so many people do.And I’m not talking about becoming a millionaire and living happily everafter. I just mean reaching a point in my life that I can stop what I’m doing,take a look around me, breathe a sigh of relief, and think “I’m where I wantto be now.”

“I can’t function here anymore. I mean in life: I can’t function in this life. I’m no better off than when I was in bed last night, with one difference: when I was in my own bed—or my mom’s—I could do something about it; now that I’m here I can’t do anything. I can’t ride my bike to the Brooklyn Bridge; I can’t take a whole bunch of pills and go for the good sleep; the only thing I can do is crush my head in the toilet seat, and I still don’t even know if that would work. They take away your options and all you can do is live, and it’s just like Humble said: I’m not afraid of dying; I’m afraid of living. I was afraid before, but I’m afraid even more now that I’m a public joke. The teachers are going to hear from the students. They’ll think I’m trying to make an excuse for bad work.”