But this is my voice. How would you be able to tell when I was talking?

“It will kill me, it will kill me, it will kill me. And I don't care.”

“Love: a single word, a wispy thing, a word no bigger or longer than an edge.”

“There's still always the possibility that I've gone totally, clinically cuckoo.…”

“I learned to tell stories from my mom. "Your dad's not feeling well today," she…”