“Believing that Sibel was saying these things to me to make me angry, I got angry. But this is not to say that the fury owed nothing to my partial awareness that she was right.”

“i know he was not angry with me- he could not be angry with me- and yet his silence felt like anger to me, as cold and raging as fury.”

“I know. So, I was angry with you. I didn't know why. I was angry with the world. I did know why. I hated all my therapists for being useless. I was this little ball of self-destructive fury, and none of them could do anything but tell me that I was a little ball of self-destructive fury. [...] I knew I was angry. Tell me what to do with that anger, please.”

“Anger at happenstance for its absurd timing. Anger at myself for being so angry. I hate being angry and every time I got this angry it made me more angry at the fact that I was so angry. I realized though that I couldn't really be mad at any of those things.”

“Something else that makes me angry is that I got too old to prostitute myself. I wasn't going to anyway but it was there, it was my Z plan.”

“Donte was stood there with Claire's phone. "Your not Claire! Where is she?" I say as I stand up. "Issobelle! Stand right there and do not move! Do you hear me?" shit! He sounds angry! I should be angry not him. I go to walk past him, but he grabs me and pushes me against the wall. He used quiet abit of force and hurt my back, but he wasn't letting go. I tried to pull away but his grip got tighter. He was actually hurting me. "Donte! Get the hell of me! Your hurting me!”