I wore it, this careless thing you don't even remember giving to me from your bag. It wasn't a gift, this thing I'm returning. It was barely a gesture, almost forgotten already, this thing I wore like it was dear to me. And it was. No wonder we broke up.

I love no one but you, I have discovered, but you are far away and I am here alone.

It is often difficult to admit that someone you love is not perfect, or to consider aspects of a person that are less than admirable.

In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle.

There are two types of panicking: standing still and not saying a word, and leaping all over the place babbling anything that comes into your head.

Occasionally there are parents who say, "I brought my child so he or she could learn what the career of a writer is like, and you did this long theatrical performance instead, and I'm very disappointed."

Hup hup ha ha hammy hee hee!