Ultimately, you can only ever write what you know. It's logically and philosophically impossible to write what you don't know.

He might have been naive, but he didn't care; he said he's rather die with his heart on his sleeve than end up another cynic.

Sometimes we just walk into something that is not for us at all. We pretend it is. We think we can shrug it off like a coat, but it's not a coat at all, it's more like another skin. [...] All I wanted was to make my life thrilling for a while: to take the oridinary objects of my days and make a different argument out of them, no obligations to my past.

I gave them all the truth and none of the honesty.

About 25 years ago, I took a bicycle across the United States. I soon found out that the greatest item of clothing was the trusty bandanna. There were dozens of uses for a bandanna - as a pot holder, a chain cleaner, a sun shield, a headband, a snot rag, a declaration of Kerouacian intent.

He realized that he had thought only about the first step, never imagined the last.

There's a part of me that thinks perhaps we go on existing in a place even after we've left it.