I'd like to have money. And I'd like to be a good writer. These two can come together, and I hope they will, but if that's too adorable, I'd rather have money.

It's not the tragedies that kill us; it's the messes.

The sun's gone dim, and the moon's gone black. For I loved him, and he didn't love back.

Accursed from their birth they be Who seek to find monogamy, Pursuing it from bed to bed— I think they would be better dead.

It was written without fear and without research.

Constant use had not worn ragged the fabric of their friendship.

Writing well is the best revenge.