If there's a black cat that crosses the street in my path, I will turn around and walk 20 minutes out of my way to not cross it.

Being a writer means I sit in a dark (and pretty dank) room off my garage for many hours a day, and in my wallowing moments I can feel as if I'm already on the outside of society, peering wistfully in.

Sometimes you have to let time carry you past your troubles.

We need the skeletons of other stories to understand our own, sometimes.

I see history as really cyclical in terms of the intense idealism, and the desire to create a better life outside of societal norms.

Sometimes I read a biography of some tempestuous artist and find myself longing for fireworks! booze! bloody fights!; I do think that life must be so much more thrilling when you're actively miserable.

I've never wanted to chuck my mortgage, drop the kids off at their grandparents' and run gloriously naked in fields of flax.