I feel like a lot of life is distasteful and embarrassing. And you just push through it. You fix what you can, and you let time pass.

If a man wants to be romantically involved with you, he tries to kiss you. That's the entire story, and if he doesn't kiss you, there is never a reason to wait around for him.

I don't think that I would ever, while writing, think to myself, "I need a little more psychological realism."

Well, I think in my first two novels, both the characters are pretty neurotic, which I would say that I am.

Anyone who's really interested in anything spends time alone.

I'm SO trying to give up meat.

I wanted to hold happiness in reserve, like a bottle of champagne. I postponed it because I was afraid, because I overvalued it, and then I didn't want to use it up, because what do you wish for then?