We have this habit of romanticizing the lives of writers. I remember when I was a kid, I was like, 'I want to be Kurt Vonnegut.'

And I wrote my way out of the labyrinth.

The future lay before him, inevitable but invisible.

I don't really want to be the costar of anyone's life.

What the hell is instant? Nothing is instant.

If I ever end up being the kind of person who has one kid and seven bedrooms. Do me a favor and shoot me.

Last words are always harder to remember when no one knows that someone's about to die.