I am my mother's worst nightmare, and my head works funny.
I wish it didn't, but where's the fun in being like everyone else?
It's said that we're all unique, but really -- most the world out there's exactly the same.

I have a problem with human stupidity, therefore, I have a problem with most of humanity.
I am content in my solitude.

This is the horror that, night after night,
Sits grinning on my pillow -- that I meant
To mix the peace of being innocent
With the warm thrill of being innocent:
This is the final blasphemy, the blight
On all pure purpose and divine intent --
To dress the selfish thought, the indolent,
In the priest's sable, or the angel's white.

For God's sake, if you sin, take pleasure in it,
And do it for the pleasure. Do not say:
'Behold the spirit's liberty! -- a minute
Will see the earthly vesture break away
And God shine through.' Say: 'Here's a sin -- I'll sin it
And there's the price of sinning -- and I'll pay.'

-- Gerald Gould.