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.

I didn't use anybody's story. I used the context and the structure of the situation. People were so, so desperate to tell their story and begin to digest their experience - like turning it into a story - that after the fist few weeks I could go with a pad and pencil and take notes. People didn't seem at all bothered by that.

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

Don't write about your most emotionally charged moment as a learning thing.

A couple drinks. A couple aspirin. Repeat.

Beginning with Santa in infancy, and ending with the Tooth Fairy as the child acquires adult teeth. Or, plainly put, beginning with all the possibility of childhood, and ending with an absolute trust in the national currency.

The laws that keep us safe, these same laws condemn us to boredom.