For six months I couldn't sleep. With insomnia, nothing's real. Everything is far away. Everything is a copy of a copy of a copy.

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.

When you reach the end of your life - trust me, you won't look back and savor the moments you spent alone.

You know, the condom is the glass slipper of our generation. You slip it on when you meet a stranger. You dance all night, then you throw it away.

You only ask people about themselves so you can tell them about yourself.

It's nice to see something more pathetic than I feel right now.

Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.