Given the brevity of our time here, it does seem likely that our species, too, must have at best a blinkered understanding of the shape of things, the import of certain events and what distinguishes "good" from "bad" luck.

Regret is a pilgrimage back to the place where I was free to choose.

Fiction helps me to reconnect with the true, deep weirdness inherent in everyday reality, in our dealings with one another, in just being alive.

You small mortals don't realize the power of your stories.

It was sad and fierce all at once, alive with a lonely purity.

I have a B.A. in Spanish, so briefly I thought that somebody might pay me to speak Spanish badly in another country, like Norway.

My mom says I'm destined to be the sort of man who uses big words but pronounces them incorrectly.