Writing is like sex, if it's difficult you're not doing it right.

It's only after we've lost everything that we're free to do anything.

Everything is funnier in retrospect, funnier and prettier and cooler. You can laugh at anything from far enough away.

Our purest form of joy comes when people we envy get hurt. That most genuine form of joy.

What I want is to be needed. What I need is to be indispensable to somebody. Who I need is somebody that will eat up all my free time, my ego, my attention. Somebody addicted to me. A mutual addiction.

Alternating the thoughtful task of writing with the mindless work of laundry or dish washing will give you the breaks you need for new ideas and insights to occur. If you don't know what comes next in the story... clean your toilet. Change the bed sheets. For Christ sakes, dust the computer. A better idea will come.

We have pain and hate and love and joy and war in the world because we want them.