How folks lay claim to a loved one is they give you a name of their own. They figure to label you as their property.

Don’t ask me when be­cause I don’t re­mem­ber, but some­where along the way I keep for­get­ting to com­mit sui­cide.

We’d turn our lives into a terrible adventure. A true-life horror story with a happy ending. A trial we’d survive to talk about.

Life's greatest comfort is being able to look over your shoulder and see people worse off, waiting in line behind you.

Until today, it really pissed me off that I'd become this totally centered Zen Master and nobody had noticed. Still, I'm doing the little FAX thing. I write little HAIKU things and FAX them around to everyone. When I pass people in the hall at work, I get totally ZEN right in everyone's hostile little FACE.

Every masterpiece is just dirt and ash put together in some perfect way.

There's a terrible dark joy when the only person who knows all your secrets is finally dead.