You need to grab your dream out of the sky like it's a kite and pinch the string through your fingers until you reach the spool.

I was struck with a bolt of distilled horror like I have never known before. Far worse than suddenly finding yourself walking through a prison cafeteria wearing Daisy Duke shorts and a Jane Fonda headband.

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

Although I was able to maintain a pleasant expression, I was mentally throwing up in her face.

You deserve to need me, not to have me.

Our lives are one endless stretch of misery punctuated by processed fast foods and the occasional crisis or amusing curiosity.

The problem with not having anybody to tell you what to do, I understood, is that there was nobody to tell you what not to do.