I have always tried to avoid talking to pretty girls, because pretty girls have a vicious effect on me in which every part of my brain is shut down except for the part that says unbelievably stupid things and the part that is aware that I am saying unbelievably stupid things.

Every love story is a ghost story.

It seems important to find ways of reminding ourselves that most "familiarity" is meditated and delusive.

I believe I want adult sanity, which seems to me the only unalloyed form of heroism available today.

The integrity of my sleep has been forever compromised, sir.

Say the whole point of love is to try to get your fingers through the holes in the lover's mask. To get some kind of hold on the mask, and who cares how you do it.

I know I'm paranoid, but am I paranoid enough?