Because nothing is as good as you can imagine it. No one is as beautiful as she is in your head. Nothing is as exciting as your fantasy.

Actually, watching television and surfing the Internet are really excellent practice for being dead.

I used rebellion as a way to hide out. We use criticism as a fake participation.

Picture anybody growing up so stupid he didn't know that hope is just another phase you'll grow out of.

Give me lust, baby. Flash. Give me malice. Flash. Give me detached existentialist ennui. Flash. Give me rampant intellectualism as a coping mechanism. Flash.

You ever wonder if Adam and Eve were just the puppies God dumped because they wouldn't house-train?

They assume she was once gorgeously beautiful. Because now she looks so—bad.