You think you want the blue skies, the open road, but really you want the tunnel, you want to know how the story ends.

My plan was to never get married. I was going to be an art monster instead. Women almost never become art monsters because art monsters only concern themselves with art, never mundane things. Nabokov didn't even fold his own umbrella. Vera licked his stamps for him.

And that phrase - 'sleeping like a baby.' Some blonde said it blithely on the subway the other day. I wanted to lie down next to her and scream for five hours in her ear.

A thought experiment courtesy of the Stoics. If you are tired of everything you possess, imagine that you have lost all these things.

To live in a city is to be forever flinching.

I had thought loving two people so much would straighten it.

A few nights later, I secretly hope that I might be a genius. Why else can no amount of sleeping pills fell my brain? But in the morning my daughter asks me what a cloud is and I cannot say.