“Something about the goat dancing made me want to cry.”

“Actually, it was only part of myself I wanted to kill: the part that wanted to kill herself, that dragged me into the suicide debate and made every window, kitchen implement, and subway station a rehearsal for tragedy.”

“Are you crazy? It's a common phrase, I know. But it means something particular to me: the tunnels, the security screens, the plastic forks, the shimmering, ever-shifting borderline that like all boundaries beckons and asks to be crossed. I do not want to cross it again.”

“Don’t ask me those questions! Don’t ask me what life means or how we know reality or why we have to suffer so much. Don’t talk about how nothing feels real, how everything is coated with gelatin and shining like oil in the sun. I don’t want to hear about the tiger in the corner or the Angel of Death or the phone calls from John the Baptist.”

“The debate was wearing me out. Once you've posed that question, it won't go away. I think manypeople kill themselves simply to stop the debate about whether they will or they won't.Anything I thought or did was immediately drawn into the debate. Made a stupid remark--why not killmyself? Missed the bus--better put an end to it all. Even the good got in there. I liked that movie--maybeI shouldn't kill myself.”

“Lunatics are similar to designated hitters. Often an entire family is crazy, but since an entire family can't go into the hospital, one person is designated as crazy and goes inside. Then, depending on how the rest of the family is feeling that person is kept inside or snatched out, to prove something about the family's mental health.”

“There is thought, and then there is thinking about thoughts, and they don't feel the same.”