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“I let the front door slam shut behind me and the fly screen rattle. It was as if each door was kicking me out of the old life I'd lived in that house. I was being thrown out into the world, new. The broken, leaning gate creaked open, let me out, and I gently placed it shut. I was gone, and from down the street, maybe fifty yards away, I looked back for a second at the house where I lived. It wasn't the same any more. It never would be. I kept walking.”
― Markus Zusak, Getting the Girl

“I killed a fruit fly that wouldn't get out of my face by clapping my hands on it. In its last act of kamikaze defiance, the fly hurled its fading carcass into a coffee I had only half-drunk and was enjoying. I had to pour it down the drain. F***er.”
― Stewart Stafford