I've noticed that Henry needs an incredible amount of physical activity all the time in order to be happy. It's like hanging out with a greyhound.

I wanted someone to love who would stay: stay and be there, always.

I think play must have been invented so we wouldn't go mad thinking about certain things.

‎I never wanted to have anything in my life that I couldn't stand losing. But it's too late for that.

Is it sad to fancy David Tennant when you're dead?

Time passes and the pain begins to roll in and out as though it’s a woman standing at an ironing board, passing the iron back and forth, back and forth across a white tablecloth.

My apartment is basically a couch, an armchair, and about four thousand books.