Lullabies for Little Criminals

by Heather O'Neill

The sky had the feeling of cold, wet underwear on a clothesline.

As soon as I touched the branch, all the petals fell to the ground, as if someone had emptied a hole puncher.

Lonely children probably wrote the Bible.

I hated people who wanted to be famous. There was nothing so depressing as people with ridiculous plans.

Childhood is the most valuable thing that’s taken away from you in life, if you think about it.

There’s no use talking to someone who’s being nostalgic.

His definition of a beetle would probably be a small hole that changes places.

Without a curfew the nights seemed shapeless, like floating through the Milky Way. The idea of an infinite universe unnerved me.