I can write for a long time on one novel and not get tired.

The small seed of despair cracks open and sends experimental tendrils upward to the fragile skin of calm holding him together.

People that keep stiff upper lips find that it's hard to smile.

Riding the train gives him too much time to think, he has decided. Too much thinking can ruin you.

Autonomy is the whole thing; it's what unhappy people are missing. They have given the power to run their lives to other people.

Some people with awful cards can be successful because of how they deal with the tragedies they're handed, and that seems courageous to me.

. . . crazy world or maybe it's just the view we have of it, looking through a crack in the door, never being able to see the whole room, the whole picture.