The past is a finite resource.

Mom said that people are interested in birds only in as much as they exhibit human behavior - greed and stupidity and anger - and by doing so they free us from the unique sorrow of being human...I told Mom my own theory of why we like birds - of how birds are a miracle because they prove to us there is a finer, simpler state of being which we may strive to attain.

Once you establish a look, and once everybody recognizes that look as your look, you never have to think about fashion again.

Why do most of us make such boring choices for the stories of our lives?

I kind of wonder if creativity is all morphing into one big thing that's not even art, but something universal and bigger.

You keep waiting for the moral of your life to become obvious, but it never does. Work, work, work: No moral. No plot. No eureka! Just production schedules and days. You might as well be living inside a photocopier. Your lives are all they're ever going to be.

I find it hard to believe that human beings are the crowning achievement of life on earth. Something better than us has to come along.