I am furiously happy. It's not a cure for mental illness...it's a weapon, designed to counter it. It's a way to take back some of the joy that's robbed from you when you're crazy.

In short? It is exhausting being me. Pretending to be normal is draining and requires amazing amounts of energy and Xanax.

Because you are defined not by life's imperfect moments, but by your reaction to them. And because there is joy in embracing - rather than running from - the utter absurdity of life.

[On acupuncture:] The needles are small and won't hurt at all. In fact, they'll feel good. Ha, ha! Just kidding. They feel like needles. Because they are.

Every time I get scared or feel like I'm not going to be good enough at something, I say that mantra to myself. "Pretend you're good at it."

When Hailey was born my first thought was that I needed a drink and that hospitals should have bars in them.

So many of us feel like we're misfits until we finally find our tribe - the other people who are are strange in the same way - and suddenly everything clicks.

It’s amazing how much you’re missing in a depressive state until you start to come out on the other side. It’s like breathing again after being underwater for far too long.

But really, what else are you going to talk about in line at the liquor store? Childhood trauma seems like the natural choice, since it’s the reason why most of us are in line there to begin with.

If you enjoyed high school, you were probably a psychopath or a cheerleader. Or possibly both.

High School Is Life’s Way of Giving You a Record Low to Judge the Rest of Your Life By)

Women talk when they want to. Or don't.

Above the sky, everything is beautiful, but alone. (Au-dessus du ciel, - Tout est beau, mais seul)

I no longer believe in love, " she said bitterly. "When people claim to have lost their heart, it's usually only their wits that have vanished.

A tainted society has invented psychiatry to defend itself against the investigations of certain superior intellects whose faculties of divination would be troublesome.

I mean, there's a hell of a lot of grounds for protest, but you don't do it through music.

We've practiced loving long enough, let's come at last to hate.

With adolescent egotism and a lot of money one can pretty much rule the world.

Let the fires go out in the boiler room of the church and the place will still look smart and clean, but it will be cold. The Prayer Room is the boiler room for its spiritual life.

Our past can control today and tomorrow only to the degree we allow it. The past should not be a place where we dwell but a place from which we learn all we can and then move on.

Come hither, my dear. Come hither, that I mightest protectest thou!