There is no hatred in my love for you. Only a sadness I feel all the more strongly for my inability to explain or describe it.

To experience commitment as the loss of options, a type of death, the death of childhood's limitless possibility, of the flattery of choice without duress-this will happen, mark me. Childhood's end.

Kafka's evocations are, rather, unconscious and almost sub-archetypal, the little-kid stuff from which myths derive; this is why we tend to call even his weirdest stories nightmarish rather than surreal.

There's a weird kind of paradox that the more expensive the vacation is, the more potentially anxiety-producing it is.

Good writing isn’t a science. It’s an art, and the horizon is infinite. You can always get better.

You have decided being scared is caused mostly by thinking.

The job of the first eight pages is not to have the reader want to throw the book at the wall, during the first eight pages.