I'm not trying to uncover the facts of my life but to discover the dramatic truth of the situations I was in.

People never remeber happiness with the care that they lavish on preserving every detail of their suffering.

Looking after children can be a subtle way of giving up... They become the whole ones, the well ones, the postponement of happiness, the ones who won't drink too much, give up, get divorced, become mentally ill. The part of oneself that's fighting against decay and depression is transferred to guarding them from decay and depression. In the meantime one decays and gets depressed.

Everything was usual. That was depression: being stuck, clinging to an out-of-date version of oneself.

The first book I fell in love with was 'Little Toot,' the story of an adorable tugboat operating out of New York Harbor.

Detachment is what interests me, seeing how people couldn't have been any other way, how they were the product of forces that they had no control over.

Surely: the adverb of a man without an argument.