Poverty made a sound like a wet cough in the shadows of the room.

Just write every day of your life. Read intensely.

There is more than one way to burn a book. And the world is full of people running about with lit matches.

I don't like the kind of writer who's out to change the world and beat up on people for their own good. Stalin did that and Hitler did that, and to hell with them.

Insanity is relative. It depends on who has who locked in what cage.

You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me. When I said something about the moon, you looked at the moon, last night. The others would never do that. The others would walk off and leave me talking. Or threaten me. No one has time any more for anyone else. You're one of the few who put up with me. That's why I think it's so strange you're a fireman, it just doesn't seem right for you, somehow.

I like to smell things and look at things, and sometimes stay up all night, walking, and watch the sun rise.