Sometimes, people trying to commit suicide manage it in a manner that leaves them breathless with astonishment.

You don't fight radical conservatism with not-quite-so radical conservatism.

When you know what you're against you have taken the first step to discovering what you're for.

Chekhov is this poet of melancholy and isolation and of wishing you were somewhere else than where you are.

I'm definitely post-something.

Masks beneath masks until suddenly the bare bloodless skull.

I've never rejected the world I came from. To be rejected by it is horrible.