I imagined a psychic pain growing inside him (myself) that demanded some physical outlet. Suicide must have been his attempt to give Pain a body, a representation, to put it outside himself. A need to convert inner torment into some outward tangible wound that all could see. It was almost as though suicide were a last-ditch effort at exorcism, in which the person sacrificed his life in order that the devil inside might die.

I like the freedom that comes with lowered expectations.

A personal essay often includes some or a lot of personal confession. That makes the reader feel less lonely in their confusion and darkness.

The trick is to realize that one is not important, except insofar as one’s example can serve to elucidate a more widespread human trait and make readers feel a little less lonely and freakish.

I really do like to write and when I'm not, I think, "Okay, I'll be a good citizen now" but fact is, that's secondary.

I'm fortunate in being able to find great satisfaction in my work.

Contradictory strands create an essay that's richly ambivalent.