A story is not something of this world. A real story requires a kind of magical baptism to link the world on this side with the world on the other side.

Her smile steps offstage for a moment, then does an encore, all while I'm dealing with my blushing face.

Life is so uncertain: you never know what could happen. One way to deal with that is to keep your pajamas washed.

There's no such thing as perfect writing, just like there's no such thing as perfect despair.

You have to make an effort to always look at the good side, always think about the good things. Then you've got nothing to be afraid of. If something bad comes up, you do more thinking at that point.

All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says.

As with marathon runs and lengths of toilet paper, there had to be standards to measure up to.