I know there's no heaven. I know it all turns to nothingness. But I fear there will be some remnant of me left within that void. Left conscious by some random fluke. Something that will scream out for this. That one speck of my soul will still exist and be left trapped and wanting. For you. For the light. For anything.

I took time in the day to write as much of the book as I possibly could. I didn't write too much at night, because I don't like to - I'd rather watch TV.

You always worry and you always fear what's next. But you eventually just push forward knowing you can't really do much about getting rid of the anxiety. You see people get pets after their kids leave the house because they're so used to having something around to dote on and worry about.

You're going to have Yahoo! and places that don't have rights being much more aggressive in how sports news is covered.

I was strangely looking forward to writing about my DUI arrest, only because I've known for four years that I was gonna write about it somehow. I dunno that it was "fun" to write, just something I'd been aching to purge from my system.

I think I liked writing a novel better. Obviously, it's more rewarding. It's that marathon thing where it sucks when you're doing it, but you're proud of yourself at the end, and you've done it, and at the very least, nobody can take that away from you.

I've always found that the best things I've ever written, or the things I like the most that I've written, are things where it's a pure idea, and you just follow it and put it down and see if it works.