I've given up wanting to make a killing or be a bigshot. I just want to find happiness and maybe open up a little roadside cafe in Idaho.

I know it's not cat food, but what exactly is it that they put inside of tinned ravioli?

Venice Beach: proof of the biological impossibility of imagining a person being simultaneously good-looking and poor.

I think writing would have happened to me anyway, somehow. Differently, but it still would have happened.

Most of us have only two or three genuinely interesting moments in our lives; the rest is filler.

In Canada, when we speak of water, we're speaking of ourselves. Canadians are known to be unextravagant, and one explanation of this might be that we know that wasted water means a diminished collective soul; polluted waters mean a sickened soul. Water is the basis of our self-identity, and when we dream of canoes and thunderstorms and streams and even snowballs, we're dreaming about our innermost selves.

I really do force myself to not be fully engaged with all the technology at once, just because I have an addictive personality and I get too into it.