"No. No, you don't get it. I'm not sane. I'm a fucking psycho bitch with a history of psychiatric problems." She was leaning heavily on him, and she didn't look happy at all, but there was a note of hysterical triumph in her voice. "Insane people don't need to do sane things. Insane people do insane things. Like maybe go outside barefoot. With a knife."
The triumphant note had gone again, replaced by gritted teeth and a fearful kind of determination. "Are you really not getting this? 'Cause you know they'd buy it."