>> I just know there's something dark in me, and I hide it. I certainly don't talk about it, but it's there—always. This Dark Passenger. And when he's driving, I feel...alive, half-sick with the thrill of complete wrongness. I don't fight him, I don't want to. He's all I've got.
>> Pretend. You pretend the feelings are there, for the world, for the people around you.
>> We all want life to have some meaning. Seems like the older we get, the harder we look for it. And the harder it is to find.
>> I've lived in darkness a long time. Over the years, my eyes adjusted until the dark became my world and I could see.