I just looked at the pattern of my life, decided I didn't like it, and changed.

And one of the things I noticed pretty early on in art school was that my classmates had no notion of an audience. Right? I mean, growing up with the mother that I did, I learned that when you walk into the dry cleaners, there's an audience waiting for you. You know, maybe it's just the person behind the counter.

I don't like travelling if I know I have to write about it.

What I really hated, of course, was my mind. There must have been an off switch somewhere, but I was damned if I could find it.

Often I'd take out my magnifying glass and stare into the chaos that was her face.

The only bright spot in the entire evening was the presence of Kevin "Tubby" Matchwell, the eleven-year-old porker who tackled the role of Santa with a beguiling authenticity. The false beard tended to muffle his speech, but they could hear his chafing thighs all the way to the North Pole.

Sometimes the sins you haven't committed are all you have left to hold onto.