He believed that all forms of government were spiritually bankrupt, that the only true way to follow Jesus was to be radically self-reliant – off every grid. The energy grid was wasteful and corrupt, and the food grid devalued and destroyed the planet, and the culture at large was full of pain and deceit, and money itself was truly evil, and even the church (or, as he would say, the corporation that calls itself the church) was the most corrupt – contaminated by money and political greed and widespread land ownership. Worst of all, they called themselves holy.

— Catherine Lacey

He excused himself for a nap, and this day blended into his dreams like years blended into a life, unseen but still felt, the line between memory and present always bleeding.

— Catherine Lacey

He would never be that way again. He would never have the power of that specific kind of not-knowing.

— Catherine Lacey

I closed my eyes, tried to get as far away from myself as I could.

— Catherine Lacey

I couldn't blame anyone for what was in me, because I am, like everyone, populated entirely by myself.

— Catherine Lacey

I couldn't decide how to feel about what he was saying, whether it was all nonsense or just more evidence that I would never understand this world.

— Catherine Lacey

I found, increasingly, that I did not particularly care, and I tried to fake a little kindness, a little sweetness, tried to mirror Luna back at herself, but that exhausted me after a week and I concluded that I was not meant for this sort of thing, friends, friendliness, no, I wasn't meant for it.

— Catherine Lacey

I had never really stopped thinking of how the smartest person I knew had, after much thought, decided that life was not worth it—that she'd be better off not living—and how was I supposed to live after that?

— Catherine Lacey

I hiked up a path and into the woods, thinking about what I should be thinking about and almost having a real feeling—a feeling like, this is really sad, this is a sad place to be, a sad part of my life, maybe just a sad life. The woods were not particularly beautiful. I was not impressed by the trees.

— Catherine Lacey

I knew that my husband was a song that I had forgotten the words to, and I was a fuzzy photograph of someone he used to love.

— Catherine Lacey