Maybe it's about who can do what to whom and can be forgiven for it. Never tell me it amounts to the same thing. - Margaret Atwood

But hatred and viciousness are addictive. You can get high on them. Once you've had a little, you start shaking if you don't get more.

This world is not enough, but it will have to do. You can either hold on or let go.

When you're young, you think everything you do is disposable. You move from now to now, crumpling time up in your hands, tossing it away. You're your own speeding car. You think you can get rid of things, and people too — leave them behind. You don't yet know about the habit they have, of coming back.

Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been.