The dead pull the living down.

We're all hunters in my family, you know. Deer, ducks_damsels.

There would be no salvaging this. I was going to die a spinster with cobwebs feasting on my vagina, I just knew it.

Forgive me, God, for I'm about to sin like fuck.

It was dark now, and broodingly sluggish. Like something supine waiting to spring, with just the tip of its tail twitching. Leaves stood still on the trees. An evil green star glinted in the black sky like a hostile eye, like an evil spying eye.("For The Rest Of Her Life")

You are fifty different kinds of twisted.""Only fifty? Val, you wound me.