The moon had risen behind him, the color of a shark's underbelly. It lit the ruined walls, and the skin of his arms and hands, with its sickly light, making him long for a mirror in which to study his face. Surely he'd be able to see the bones beneath the meat; the skull gleaming the way his teeth gleamed when he smiled. After all, wasn't that what a smile said? Hello, world, this is the way I'll look when the wet parts are rotted.

I was a weird little kid. I was very irritable, bored, frustrated. I felt my imagination bubbling inside my head without having any way to express itself. Given a crayon and paper, I would not draw a train or a house. I would draw these monsters, beasts and demons.

After all, where can the glorious, the goofy, and the god-like stand shoulder to shoulder?

You have to taste the sour urine before you break the jug.

You'll learn, honey. Love can be the best thing in life. And it can be the worst. The absolute worst.

Books should make somebody look at how they feel, be honest with themselves.

I'm a great dog fanatic. My own dog died a little while ago and I take it very personally when things die-it's a major offence.