I kept staring into the blackness of the woods, drawn into the darkness as I always had been. I suddenly realized how alone I was. (But this is how you travel, the wind whispered back, this is how you've always lived.)

I really believe that readers are smart and sophisticated enough to realize that the author is not the narrator of his novels.

The seeds of love have taken hold and if we won't burn together, I'll burn alone.

Do you wear a diaphragm everywhere you go?' I want to scream, but stop myself because the idea really excites me.

I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip.

I could stay living in this city if they just installed Blaupunkts in the cabs.

Are you as much of a criminal if you don't act when there's a crime taking place in front of you as you are one of the participants? That was something that I was thinking about a lot because there are many moments in 'Less Than Zero' where horrific things happen and Clay could do something about them, but his passivity stops him.