I have a lot of rage about things that didn't happen to me, tied up with watching an immigrant, working-class father struggle to make his way through the world - and seeing how society was modeled to keep him in his place.

The brain controls pain. It controls fear. Sleep. Empathy. Hunger. Everything we associate with the heart or the soul or the nervous system is actually controlled by the brain. Everything. What if you could control it?

The best thing that can happen to people entering creative professions is the dwindling of all other possibilities.

I sort of play golf because a lot of my friends are into it, but I'm awful - my handicap is about six or seven thousand.

What's your name?" "Emma Gould," she said. "What's yours?" "Wanted." "By all the girls or just the law?

This world can only give me reminders of what I don't have, can never have, didn't have for long enough.

I held her, he wanted to say, and if I knew for certain that all it would take to hold her again would be to die, then I couldn't raise the gun to my head fast enough.