I think we often write because we feel a loneliness, and people read for the same reason, and then they come away feeling a little less lonely.

I thought this man had long ago drained everything from my heart. But now something strong and bitter flowed and made me feel another emptiness in a place I didn't know was there. I cursed this man aloud so he could hear. You had dog eyes. You jumped and followed whoever called you. Now you chase your own tail.

I have always known a thing before it happens.

All objects exist in a moment of time.

I would find myself laughing and wondering where these ideas came from. You can call it imagination, I suppose. But I was grateful for wherever they came from.

Those who don't heed the warnings don't live to admit they were stupid not to do so.

I did not lose myself all at once.