Most writers spend their lives standing a little apart from the crowd, watching and listening and hoping to catch that tiny hint of despair, that sliver of malice, that makes them think, 'Aha, here is the story.'

I was terrified of LSD. I don't want to get arrested.

In a perfect world, probably we'd never yell, we'd just be firm and dispassionate. But of course, everyone yells at their children.

My father is sure that Israel keeps the Holocaust from happening again. I worry that it might hasten its recurrence.

There is no fundamental truth and there's nothing to be connected to: I just believe that [LSD] makes you feel better.

Being a public defender makes you incredibly paranoid - and I would say with reason - about law enforcement.

I wrote three novels in six months, with a clarity of focus and attention to detail that I had never before experienced. This type of sublime creative energy is characteristic of the elevated and productive mood state known as hypomania.