I might be a touch of a sadist and a little bit jejune... but at least I'm not a victim, not any longer. I hope. I hope, therefore I am.

Discovering the 'impossible' ending to a new book makes me sick with joy and relief.

Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head.

A hotel, he told me, was a big house where a lot of people lived and ate and slept, but no one knew each other. He said that described most families in the outside world.

You tell yourself that noise is what defines silence. Without noise, silence would not be golden. Noise is the exception.

Self improvement is masturbation.

Marla's philosophy of life, she told me, is that she can die at any moment. The tragedy of her life is that she doesn't.