I'm a good person but a shitty writer. You're a shitty person but a good writer. We'd make a good team.

She was up and down—from fire and brimstone to smoke and ashes.

It's fine," I repeated. And whatever. It was fine. It had to be.

Just move to the Internet, its great here. We get to live inside where the weather is always awesome.

I didn't want to see them lower him into the ground in the spot he'd picked out with his dad, and I didn't want to see his parents sink to their knees in the dew-wet grass and moan in pain.

The Side Effects of Dying in Your Pants isn't really funny… Alright, it's a little funny.

What is the point of being alive if you don't at least try to do something remarkable?