Adolescence hits boys harder than it does girls. Girls bleed a little and their breasts pop out, big deal, but adolescence lands on a guy with both feet. . . . Your body is engulfed by chemicals of rage and despair, you pound, you shriek, you batter your head against the trees. You come away wounded, feeling that life is unknowable, can never be understood, only endured and sometimes cheated.

The highlight of my childhood was making my brother laugh so hard that food came out of his nose.

When the New Yorker turned down work, they turned it down in such an elaborately gentlemanly way making apologies for their own shortsightedness. Undoubtedly it was their fault but somehow for some reason this fell short of the remarkably high standard that you by your own work have set for yourself. They had a way of rejecting my work that made me feel sorry for them somehow.

Give guilt - the gift that lasts forever.

You don't want to get that sort of sound in your writing that boing that gives you away.

Never insult a writer. You may find yourself immortalized in ways you may not appreciate.

March is the month God created to show people who don't drink what a hangover is like.