• And what I thought, every time I thought about my father, every time his name came up, was quite simply: I WANT TO KILL YOU. I wanted to be more mature, more reasonable, I wanted to have a big, fat, forgiving heart that could contain all this rage and still find room for kind, beneficent love, but I didn't have it in me. I just didn't.

    Elizabeth Wurtzel (2014). “Prozac Nation: Young and Depressed in America”, p.132, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt