The dead pull the living down.

We're all hunters in my family, you know. Deer, ducks_damsels.

There would be no salvaging this. I was going to die a spinster with cobwebs feasting on my vagina, I just knew it.

Forgive me, God, for I'm about to sin like fuck.

It was dark now, and broodingly sluggish. Like something supine waiting to spring, with just the tip of its tail twitching. Leaves stood still on the trees. An evil green star glinted in the black sky like a hostile eye, like an evil spying eye.("For The Rest Of Her Life")

You don't just have people who wake up in the morning and say, "What evil things can I do today, because I'm Mr. Evil?" People do things for what they think are justified reasons. Everybody is the hero of their own story, and you have to keep that in mind. If you read a lot of history, as I do, even the worst and most monstrous people thought they were the good guys. We're all very tangled knots.