“…I was under the strong impression that everywhere you go, you’ll find a brand-new you, the way you happen to bump into a friend in a cafe. In each new place, I always turned out to be someone I liked better than the old me. Someone without a past following her around like toilet paper stuck to the heel of her shoe. Someone who spoke less often and less rapidly, smiled without showing her teeth rather than grinning lopsidedly, wore sunglasses and had cool shoes. Who was known as nether as that-silly-kid or as the-incurable-crazy-sick-person; a woman who was not known at all.”

— Wasted by Marya Hornbacher