My oldest brother was stabbed thirty to forty times and strangled to death with his own belt when I was eight years old. Much of my life has been pockmarked with violence. So I had a natural interest in the topic, along with a strong home-field advantage.

I've noticed that if you spend ten years without shooting dope, people consider you an ex-junkie, but one never is considered an 'ex-woman-beater.'

The idea that the reader is important enough to me that I'd tailor my words to either please or offend them always seems amusingly alien to me.

In contrast to how my father treated me, I won't hit him, I won't call him evil, I'll give him affection, and I'll pay attention to him.

Hatespeak is usually more honest than lovespeak, and it's always better than doublespeak.

I'll argue anyone into the dust when it comes to facts.

I write to please myself.