I was the weirdest kid in this small town in Washington. I was the only person who was from somewhere else, so I think they just didn't understand it... They said I was a weirdo or that I didn't belong there. That was the hardest one when people said I didn't belong there.
Cherish your human connections: your relationships with friends and family. Even your super weirdo creep cousin.
It's just so fragile. The growing sense of 'Oh, God, what am I doing? Am I any good? Will I ever work again?' All those questions of self doubt, they do creep in.
It's just so fragile. The growing sense of 'Oh, God, what am I doing Am I any good Will I ever work again' All those questions of self doubt, they do creep in.
I went from weirdo teenager to pixie waif to them not knowing what the hell to do with me.
I am Albanian by birth. Now I am a citizen of India. I am also a Catholic nun. In my work, I belong to the whole world. But in my heart, I belong to Christ.
I start to wonder if I’m being creepy. I mean, I am creeping. Does creep-ing automatically make one creep-y? Or are there dispensations for…romance? I bet all stalkers believe they’re being romantic. I did it for love, officer.
I was seen as a little weirdo. But I was certain I wasn't a weirdo. I knew who the weirdos were, and it wasn't me!
I was the class weirdo, but I didn't own that weirdo moniker until much later.
I dont know if hell exists, but there sure as hell are some people who dont belong in heaven.
I choose to ignore hell in my life. When I was a little kid I asked my Dad "Am I going to go to hell?" because I'd heard about hell. And he said, "Nothing you're gonna do will get you into hell." And so I got to ignore it.
What the hell am I doing here?
Creep into thy narrow bed, Creep, and let no more be said!
I was a weirdo, but a well-liked weirdo.
At home, I had seven brothers, one sister. I sewed clothes for my sister's dolls although she was grown and gone away. I was a weirdo but didn't think I was a weirdo.