Thunderstorms were rare in California, but when they came they were, like most things in California, larger than life.

Even a small, everyday lie is a clue to the personality and preoccupations of the liar, like a dream or any other confection of the mind, that is half-conscious and half-unconscious, as all creative acts must be.

That's the worst thing about money - the moment you have some you begin to suspect everyone of trying to take it away from you. And usually they are.

Privacy is like sleep - something you don't appreciate until you have to go without it.

Money is an acquired taste. But, once acquired, it becomes an addiction.

In a city you thought of all life as human life. You had to live in the heart of the woods to realize that humanity was a slight ripple on the surface of a flood of life that seeped into every vacant crack, flowed into every biological vacuum the moment it occurred.

The author portrays himself in every line he writes and portrayal is always betrayal.