I used to care about how other people thought I led my life. But lately I've realized that most people are too preoccupied with their own lives to give anybody else even the scantiest of thoughts.

I think it takes an amazing amount of energy to convince oneself that the Forever Person isn't just around the corner. In the end I believe we never do convince ourselves. I know that I found it increasingly hard to maintain the pose of emotional self-sufficiency lying on my bed and sitting at my desk, watching the gulls cartwheeling in the clouds over the bridges, cradling myself in my own arms, breathing warm chocolate-and-vodka breath on a rose I had found on a street corner, trying to force it to bloom.

Los Angelenos dress like they've been focus-grouped.

Ski boots are the worst. Solid plastic. They'll be around till the sun goes supernova.

Birds are a miracle because they prove to us there is a finer, simpler state of being which we may strive to attain.

New York is a theme park for people with IQs over 108.

If human beings had genuine courage, they'd wear their costumes every day of the year, not just on Halloween.