The world had somehow gone too far, and spontaneous kindness could never be so easy.

If you want to know who your friends are, get yourself a jail sentence.

…He was always high on drugs. I was not a drug man, but in case I wanted to hide from myself for a few days, I knew I could get anything I wanted from him.

You are thirty minutes late." "Yes." "Would you be thirty minutes late to a wedding or a funeral?" "No." "Why not, pray tell?" "Well, if the funeral was mine I'd have to be on time. If the wedding was mine it would be my funeral.

Lawyers, doctors, plumbers, they all made the money. Writers? Writers starved. Writers suicided. Writers went mad.

It’s never quite right, all the things we are taught, all the loves we chase, all the deaths we die, all the lives we live.

The hangover was brutal but he didn't mind. It told him he had been somewhere else, someplace good.