“I feel strangely normal.”

“It was a strange life, I suppose, but it was the only one I’ve ever known. What is a normal childhood anyway?”

“I feel sorry for anyone who is in a place where he feels strange and stupid.”

“I strangely feel better before I go through hair and makeup. Maybe that's just because I feel like me.”

“I thought it was so strange because I normally make these pitch-black studies of misanthropes or the occasional movie about serial killers, sowhat could the possibly see in this material for me.”

“I am not strange but I feel queer. I am like that sometimes. I feel like crying all the time. It is very silly but it will pass.”

“Books make me feel safe. Books make me feel normal.”

“It was a strange feeling, like touching a void.”

“I thought it was normal, that’s the thing. When you’re little you think everything is normal. If your mother had a pointed head and green ears you’d think it’s normal. Only when you grow up do you realise that not everybody is like that. Gradually you can even come to learn that the time you are living in is strange too, that it hasn’t always been like this. The more you feel uncomfortable and unconfident and want to find a way to be like everyone else and fit in, the more normality runs away from you because there isn’t any such thing. Or if there is, you have to find someone else who’ll agree with you what it is. Which I seem singularly unable to do.”

“she slammed the door and
was gone.

I looked at the closed door
and at the doorknob
and strangely
I didn't feel
alone.”