Women, fire in their crotch, won't burn out, begin by fighting off pricks, end by going wild hunting for one that still works.

All men are mortal, and therefore all men are losers; our profoundest loyalty goes out to the failed.

Fiction is in danger of becoming a kind of poetry. Only other poets read it. Only other fiction writers care about it.

Women are an alien race set down among us.

The great thing about the dead, they make space.

If you have the guts to be yourself, other people'll pay your price.

For male and female alike, the bodies of the other sex are messages signaling what we must do - they are glowing signifiers of our own necessities.