That's the whole trouble. You can't ever find a place that's nice and peaceful, because there isn't any.

I told her I loved her and all. It was a lie, of course, but the thing is, I meant it when I said it. I'm crazy. I swear to God I am.

I could happily lie down and die sometimes.

We are, all four of us, blood relatives, and we speak a kind of esoteric, family language, a sort of semantic geometry in which the shortest distance between any two points is a fullish circle.

She wrote to him fairly regularly, from a paradise of triple exclamation points and inaccurate observations.

He said you were the only one who was bitter about S.'s suicide and the only one who really forgave him for it. The rest of us, he said, were outwardly unbitter and inwardly unforgiving.

In my mind, I'm probably the biggest sex maniac you ever saw.