I care about strangers when they're abstractions, but I feel almost nothing when they're literally in front of me.

I remember saying things, but I have no idea what was said. It was generally a friendly conversation.” —Associated Press reporter Jack Sullivan, attempting to recount a 3 A.M. exchange we had at a dinner party and inadvertently describing the past ten years of my life.

It was the kind of love you can only feel toward someone you don't actually know.

Soccer is like punk rock: The product is not necessarily terrible. The problem is the fan base.

The only people who think the Internet is a calamity are people whose lives have been hurt by it; the only people who insist the Internet is wonderful are those who need it to give their life meaning.

When given the choice, we’d all rather be happy now … even if that guarantees we’ll all be sad later.

My mind and gut are never simpatico: Every time I think somebody likes me, she doesn't; every time I think somebody doesn't like me, she does. This has never changed and I'm certain it never will.