Just as I had long suspected, a person didn't really need math for anything anyway. Maybe some people did. Some limited people.

I was learning that if I lived slightly in the future-what will happen next-I didn't have to feel so much about what was going on in the present.

My brother was born without taste or the desire to be professionally lit.

I remember, no matter how impossible it seemed that any given day would end, it always did. This one would, too.

My only ritual is to just sit down and write, write every day.

Saying just the right thing after a considerable, awkward pause is far less effective than saying the wrong thing with perfect timing. I'm telling you.

There's never a false note in a Berg novel.