The only thing that separates us from the animals... is we have pornography.

In light this bright, after so long in the dark, everything we can see is only black and white. Only glaring shape-outlines we have to blink against.

I am not loved. I am not a beautiful soul. I am not a good-natured, giving person. I am not anybody's savior.

Now is the autumn of our ennui.

With the novels, I usually start from something in my own life that I can't resolve, so I turn it into a metaphor and for months or sometimes years I'll exhaust all of my emotional reaction to this issue by making it enormous on the page.

I know this because Tyler knows this.

Sometimes the past seems too big for the present to hold.