Love came hard and very seldom. When it did it was usually for the wrong reasons.

I am this fiery snail crawling home.

I think that the world should be full of cats and full of rain, that's all, just cats and rain, rain and cats, very nice, good night.

and now sometimes I'm interviewed, they want to hear about life and literature and I get drunk and hold up my cross-eyed, shot, runover de-tailed cat and I say,"look, look at this!" but they don't understand, they say something like,"you say you've been influenced by Celine?" no," I hold the cat up,"by what happens, by things like this, by this, by this!

This incompleteness is all we have.

It didn't pay to trust another human being. Humans didn't have it, whatever it took.

We are all museums of fear.