I want to let her know though that all the nights sleeping beside her even the useless arguments were things ever splendid and the hard words I ever feared to say can now be said: I love you.

i am going to start selling air in dark orange bags marked: moon-blooms

When a writer is swayed with his fame and his fortune, you can float him down the river with the turds.

Life's as kind as you let it be.

she is no longer the beautiful woman she was. she sends photos of herself sitting upon a rock by the ocean alone and damned. I could have had her once. I wonder if she thinks I could have saved her?

I was fairly poor but most of my money went for wine and classical music. I loved to mix the two together.

Don't ever write a novel unless it hurts like a hot turd coming out.