You're either reading a book or you're not.

Life, in her experience, had a kind of velvet luster. You looked at yourself from one perspective and all you saw was weirdness. Move your head a little bit, though, and everything looked reasonably normal.

I can't stomach any kind of notion that serious fiction is good for us, because I don't believe that everything that's wrong with the world has a cure.

The world was ending then, it's ending still, and I'm happy to belong to it again.

Today's Baudelaires are hip-hop artists.

There's a hazardous sadness to the first sounds of someone else's work in the morning; it's as if stillness experiences pain in being broken.

I feel that working environmentalists are, in the main, happier than armchair environmentalists.