At this moment, the story in his head was perfect. He also knew from experience that it would degenerate the second he started typing, because such was the nature of writing.

With a secret like that, at some point the secret itself becomes irrelevant. The fact that you kept it does not.

Why the hell shouldn't I run away with the circus?

I strain to hear, but my old ears, for all their obscene hugeness, pick up nothing but snippets.

You work hard on a book and throw it out there and then it's beyond your control.

...poking a lump of red Jello that jiggles outrageously, like a breast I once knew.

Life is the most spectacular show on earth.