I knew I was really there, because I was the thing his arms encircled, the thing his love defined.

I may not know what my heart truly holds, but who does? I think we're all mysteries, even to ourselves.

I'm perfectly natural the way I am. Why can't you humans ever understand that I might not want to be afflicted with gender?

To die this way seems so random, so trivial. I have been robbed of meaning before being robbed of life. To die in darkness, alone -- for what purpose was I ever alive. It is as if I emerged from darkness into delusion, then sank back into darkness forever.

Powerlessness is such a lure, such a poisonous lure.