Somewhere between sanity and madness lays a fine line, for some it is a tightrope walked daily, a fight for balance to be won or lost. That fight is lost one of two ways. Some simply lose their balance and fall, others are pushed.

If everybody was so reverent of the institute of marriage, how did all the adultery get committed?

It seems to me that my lack of faith is not, as I once thought, a triumph of the rational mind, but rather a failure of the imagination - an inability to tolerate mistery.

For most people, honesty is such an unusual departure from their standard modus operandi - such an abherration in their workaday mendacity - that they feel obliged to alert you when a moment of sincerity is coming on.

It's hard to resist the magical thinking that the work habits of great writers are the key to their greatness.

...what is romance, but a mutual pact of delusion? When the pact ends , there's nothing left.

We are bound by the secrets we share.