Good writing is good writing, and I'm so happy when I read it.

But it had no doubt sprung from true emotion, for all that parents ever wanted, really, was for you to love their child the way they did.

But this post-college world felt different from everything that had come before it; art was still central, but now everyone had to think about making a living too, and they did so with a kind of scorn for money except as it allowed them to live the way they wanted to live.

It seemed that everywhere you went, people quickly adapted to the way they had to live, and called it Life.

People could not get enough of what they had lost, even if they no longer wanted it.

And specialness - everyone wants it. But Jesus, is it the most essential thing there is? Most people aren't talented. So what are they supposed to do - kill themselves?

For me, a novel relying too heavily on a single idea might be a dry, deadly thing unless it possesses an animating force.