I guess no matter what your family is like, you're not surprised.

There is only one page left to write on. I will fill it with words of only one syllable. I love. I have loved. I will love.

That's what alcoholics do. It's in their job description: fall apart and then keep falling apart.

Chaos is more freedom; in fact, total freedom. But no meaning.

Each spine was an encapsulated memory, each book represented hours, days of pleasure, of immersion into words.

Now I wonder if it means that the future is a place, or like a place, that I could go to; that is go to in some way other than just getting older.

He thanked her and left the house in the mood of a shipwrecked man who has allowed the rescue ship to pass him by.