It's like you said the other day," said Adam. "You grow up readin' about pirates and cowboys and spacemen and stuff, and jus' when you think the world's full of amazin' things, they tell you it's really all dead whales and chopped-down forests and nucular waste hangin' about for millions of years. 'Snot worth growin' up for, if you ask my opinion.

Perfection is like chasing the horizon. Keep moving.

Really, he thought, if you couldn't trust a poet to offer sensible advice, who could you trust?

Leave no stone unturned. Deeply explore the beauty of your life.

In a novel, you can always go back and make it look like you knew what you were doing all along before the thing goes out and gets published.

This little piggy went to Hades This little piggy stayed home This little piggy ate raw and steaming human flesh This little piggy violated virgins And this little piggy clambered over a heap of dead bodies to get to the top

He would go somewhere no one knew him, and he would sit in a library all day and read books and listen to people breathing.