[Children] would have messed up my apartment. In the main, they are ungrateful. They would have siphoned too much time away from the writing of my precious books.

In a country that doesn't discriminate between fame and infamy, the latter presents itself as plainly more achievable.

Half an ear cocked, something in me, all night, every night, is waiting for you to come home.

A lot of people get so hung up on what they can't have that they don't think for a second about whether they really want it.

The fact that my clothing has been visually available to other people I do not find upsetting. The body is another matter. It is mine; I have found it useful; but it is an avatar.

It's always the mother's fault, ain't it?" she said softly, collecting her coat. "That boy turn out bad cause his mama a drunk, or she a junkie. She let him run wild, she don't teach him right from wrong. She never home when he back from school. Nobody ever say his daddy a drunk, or his daddy not home after school. And nobody ever say they some kids just damned mean.

...some people coddle their own afflictions the way others spoil small pedigreed dogs with cans of pate.