"There is a woman wearing my clothes and my skin and my smell but it isn't me. Sin is like ink, it bleeds into a person, coloring, making you someone other than you used to be. And it's indelible. Try as much as you want, you cannot get yourself back.
Words can't pull me back from the edge, neither can daylight. This isn't something to get over, it is an atmosphere I need to learn to breathe. Grow gills for transgression, take it into my lungs with every gasp.
It's a startling thing. I wonder who this person is, going through the motions of my life. I want to take her hand. And then I want to push her, hard, off a cliff."

- Jodi Picoult