Just once I’d like to meet a fella who isn’t a phony. Somebody who doesn’t wanna buy me a fur so he can show me off to his boys.

People always fear what they don't understand, Evangeline. History proves that.

Goodbye," I whisper at last, when it no longer matters and there is no one to hear it but the window.

Pastoralia by George Saunders. Possibly my favorite book. Its one of the weirdest books Ive ever read. If Monty Python and Thomas Pynchon had a love child, and it was raised by Frank Zappa on a weird commune, that would be this book.

Sitting in my favorite coffeehouse with a new notebook and a hot cup of java is my idea of Heaven.

On the Bowery, in the ornate carcass of a formerly grand vaudeville theater, a dance marathon limps along. The contestants, young girls and their fellas, hold one another up, determined to make their mark, to bite back at the dreams sold to them in newspaper advertisements and on the radio. They have sores on their feet but stars in their eyes.

Maybe girls need an island to find themselves. Maybe they need a place where no one's is watching them so they can be who they really are