But... what about us? What about the past?" she asks blankly. "The past isn't real. it's just a dream," I say. "Don't mention the past.

Adjust my dreams for me.

I think in life, there are certain choices you make that are timeless and universal, and don't necessarily have anything to do with the particulars of a certain decade.

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

What else is there to do in college except drink beer or slit one's wrists?

Why would I care what other people are thinking? I don't care what an audience thinks of me.

Not being able to find meaning can be just as powerful as finding meaning.