Something changed. Somewhere along the line you stopped accelerating.

The capacity for friendship is God's way of apologizing for our families.

There is a shabby nobility in failing all by yourself.

When you catch yourself lying to your therapist, you know it's a waste of money.

You keep thinking that with practice you will eventually get the knack of enjoying superficial encounters, that you will stop looking for the universal solvent, stop grieving. You will learn to compound happiness out of small increments of mindless pleasure.

I don't want to have my life fall apart for my work.

I envy those writers who outline their novels, who know where they're going. But I find writing is a process of discovery.