You're not allowed to say anything about books because they're books, and books are, you know, God.

Complaining about boring football is a little like complaining about the sad ending of King Lear: it misses the point somehow.

I used to think--and given the way we ended up, maybe I still do--that all relationships need the kind of violent shove that a crush brings, just to get you started and to push you over the humps. And then, when the energy from that shove has gone and you come to something approaching a halt, you have to look around and see what you've got. It could be something completely different, it could be something roughly the same, but gentler and calmer, or it could be nothing at all.

I've committed to nothing...and that's just suicide...by tiny, tiny increments.

I don't think you can call it stalking when it's just phone calls and letters and emails and knocking on the door.

The truth about life was that nothing ever ended until you died, and even then you just left a whole bunch of unresolved narratives behind you.

Sometimes you know you've got a chance with a girl because she wants to fight with you. If the world wasn't so messed up, it wouldn't be like that. If the world was normal, a girl being nice to you would be a good sign, but in the real world, it isn't.