“Et Tu, Babe” was born out of my absolute certainty that a writer’s life was solitary and insular, and I was happy with that. I love reading and writing, it’s my whole life.

You are fiercely heterosexual and well-formed, and it's no one's business that you've shrunk your parents and keep them in a terranium, but you have a gatling gun for a mouth, and if that's a diary you're producing from your cleavage, I'm leaving.

I guess I can picture things once they're done - I just can't picture actually doing them.

I always thought of my work as being animated by a spirit of unhinged generosity.

I dont walk around chuckling all the time. My outlook is very bleak. Its worse than bleak, its apocalyptic.

My idea with my work is always to fashion something that's impossible to transpose into any other media.

People have no idea how much work it is for a man to produce an ejaculation. You have this seminal vesicle churning out this fluid, the prostate gland producing an alkaline solution. It's like having five iron chefs in your crotch working to cook up this stuff.