One day, while life is being incredible and interesting, I’m going to die.

There is a certain loveliness, I think, to performing deep cleaning in one’s underwear on a beautiful summer day.

There is, in fact, no safeword for chemical burns under one’s fingernails.

I was not merely cleaning an oven; I was improving the world.

No one has the right to demand that your body be something other than what it is.

What you call 'contradiction' I call 'complement'.

If it’s convenient to love you, you’re lying to someone about who you are or what you need.

Should' assumes that when either willingness or ability is lacking, it may be compensated for by an abundance of the other. This is simply not realistic.

If you’re lying to everyone you know, including yourself, at every possible turn, is a little upheaval really the worst that could happen to your life right now?

We’re not broken. We’re not in the wrong bodies. We’re not inadequate. We’re not lesser. We’re not unwanted. We’re not fraudulent. We’re not undesirable. That’s all just a set of lies we tell to soothe the experience of the prisons we put ourselves in.