I felt this awful obligation to be charming or at least have something to say, and the pressure of having to be charming (or merely verbal) incapacitates me.
You're so young... Are you sure that's what you want your life to be, forever and ever? That job? That career? That girlfriend?
I only feel like myself when I am alone.
Sometimes I envy religious people for the comfort of believing. It would make everything so much easier.
The first night Stephen and I slept together, he whispered numbers into my ear: long, high numbers -- distances between planets, seconds in a life. He spoke as if they were poetry, and they became poetry. Later, when he fell asleep, I leaned over him and watched, trying to picture a mathematician's dreams. I concluded that Stephen must dream in abstract, cool designs like Mondrian paintings.
I thought the best thing to do would be nothing, and in that way things couldn’t get any worse.
I often feel like I want to think something but I can't find the language that coincides with the thoughts, so it remains felt, not thought. Sometimes I feel like I'm thinking in Swedish without knowing Swedish.
I don't think I could ever work in such a blatantly hierarchical corporate setting. I know that everyone in this world is not equal, but I can't bear environments that make this truth so obvious.
I knew my mother was right, but that didn't change the way I felt about things. People always think that if they can prove they're right, you'll change your mind.
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