Jeanette and Eloise

"For those full grown - notice I didn't say adults -  who are behaving like they're still in junior high school, tell them to get a fucking life!" she cackled.

"Well, not to their face but shout out loud in your kitchen or in the woods. Shout 'Get a fucking life you scuzzy withered cunts!' It will feel great! Kick the dirt, throw some stones! Chop wood. Hammer some chicken. Get a meat tenderizer for this very purpose. I used to pound the air out of  blobs of clay in my ceramic studio. Boy, did I love that."

"When they start with the weights and measurements on any scale; money, talents, pants size. You tell them, I've always hated math, so fuck off," Eloise continued, exhaling cigarette smoke over the table.

She forgave Eloise's smoking because she adored her.

"Cliques, my dear are defined by INSECURITY and sameness: socio-economic status, dress, drink, drugs.  Just remember THEY are INSECURE! THEY don't have any imagination. It's the join or be shunned circus. I know, I know! I'm 85 and this bullshit never stops whether you live in suburbia or a high-rise or out in a rural farm community. They find you at church or the Safeway. They're like vampires, they need to suck your blood. Don't play along. People are fundamentally dreadful especially when they're tribal. Us introverts are on a whole other planet. Avoid these twits at all cost."

"You're lucky, you like to be alone, you despise gossip and drama. I'm sure they're just jealous. They can sense you're from a bigger world, your inner world. A place they wouldn't have the courage to spend three seconds in."

"I ran away starting at 15 and I'm still running at 85. It never stops! Greek mythology, Shakespeare, or the local PTA, it's all the same game. The only difference are the performers' costumes. My theater background gave me some perspective. At the very least it gave me confidence and a sense of mischief."