The gun made a ripping sound like the opening of a zipper on the fly of God Almighty.

God damn it, you've got to be kind.

The reason we write fiction is because it's so much easier to exist spending part of each day in an imaginary world.

In an unmoored life like mine, sleep and hunger and work arrange themselves to suit themselves, without consulting me.

There is nothing like death to say what is always such an artificial thing to say: The End.

Literature should not disappear up its own asshole, so to speak.

Hitler at the end thought that he himself was one more casualty in the war.