I try to get centered: Watching white moon face The stars never feel anger Blah, blah, blah, the end

And it [Fight Club novel] was written so general that my father thought I was writing about his father, and my boss thought I was writing about his boss. People really put themselves, you know, in the shoes of the narrator.

If you don't know what you want, you end up with a lot you don't.

Folks build a reputation by attacking you while you’re alive - or praising you after you ain’t.

The lucky ones are just born dead.

And the more she could imagine this island, the less she liked the real world. The more she could imagine the people, the less she liked any real people.

You have a choice. Live or die. Every breath is a choice. Every minute is a choice. Every time you don't throw yourself down the stairs, that's a choice. Every time you don't crash your car, you re-enlist.