Everything creepy and Southern isn't Faulknerian, just like everything annoying isn't Kafkaesque.

I thought of my mother (...). Freud wrote that no man is secure in the love of his mother can ever be a failure. Well, I had been busy proving that theory wrong.

All I wanted was what I'd already had. That exultation, that love. It was my one real home; I was a visitor everywhere else.

Everything creepy and Southern isn't Faulknerian, just like everything annoying isn't Kafkaesque.

I try to know as much as I can about a book before the beginning, but I never know exactly where it's going to end.

The trouble with excuses, however, is that they become inevitably difficult to believe after they’ve been used a couple of times.

On a ship thats made of paper, I would sail the seven seas. (Just to be with you)