The avant-garde in every field consists of the lonely, the friendless, the uninvited. All progress is the product of the unpopular.

To preserve yourself as the center of the world, to stay your own best authority on everything, your own expert on all topics, infallible, omniscient. Always, every time of the month, forever: Use birth control.

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

And the more she could imagine this island, the less she liked the real world. The more she could imagine the people, the less she liked any real people.

With my eyes closed, I ask if she knows how this will all turn out. "Long-term or short-term?" she asks. Both. "Long-term," she says, "we're all going to die. Then our bodies will rot. No surprise there. Short-term, we're going to live happily ever after." Really? "Really," she says. "So don't sweat it.

If a tree falls in the forest and nobody is there to hear it, doesn't it just lie there and rot?

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.