We go to the past to lay the blame - since the past can't argue. We go to our past selves to account for our present miseries.

Nicotine and alcohol embraced in my system like long-parted siblings, grateful to me for reuniting them.

Once you've stopped loving someone breaking his or her heart's just an unpleasant chore you have to get behind you. My God, you really don't love me anymore, do you? No matter your decency the victim's incredulity's potentially hilarious. You manage not to laugh.

I'm too conceited for therapy.

Literature is humanity's broad-minded alter-ego, with room in its heart for monsters, even for you. It's humanity without the judgement.

I suppose the word "unbearable" is a lie by definition. Unless you kill yourself immediately after using it.

If Im going to invest the time in a novel, I want something more than the entertainment you get out of most genre fiction.