Art is like an ill-trained Labrador retriever that drags you out into traffic.

Evolution loves death more than it loves you or me. This is easy to write, easy to read, and hard to believe.

The more you read, the more you will write. The better the stuff you read, the better the stuff you will write.

No, the point is not only does time fly and do we die, but that in these reckless conditions we live at all, and are vouchsafed, for the duration of certain inexplicable moments, to know it.

I'd seen a great many partial eclipses, but a partial eclipse has the same relation to a total eclipse as flirting with a man does to marrying him. It's completely different.

What is important is the moment of opening a life and feeling it touch--with an electric hiss and cry--this speckled mineral sphere, our present world.

Put yourself out of your misery.