I live my own life and nurse my own wounds. It's not the best way to live. But it's the way I am.

The only way we know it's true is that we both dreamed it. That's what reality is. It's a dream everyone has together.

Emotions, in my experience aren't covered by single words. I don't believe in "sadness," "joy," or "regret." I'd like to have at my disposal complicated hybrid emotions, Germanic traincar constructions like, say, "the happiness that attends disaster." Or: "the disappointment of sleeping with one's fantasy." ... I'd like to have a word for "the sadness inspired by failing restaurants" as well as for "the excitement of getting a room with a minibar." I've never had the right words to describe my life.

There are some books that reached through the noise of life to grab you by the collar and speak only of the truest things.

You begin always knowing nothing. You remain forever an amateur, a first timer.

Children learn to speak Male or Female the way they learn to speak English or French.

People don't save other people. People save themselves.