The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them.

Wow. This makes grand central look like a bus stop in Buttfuck Nebraska.

I win, you win. You win, I win. The gun, I win. The fruit, you win. I win, you win.

I like to end stories where the readers have a little room to run. They can resolve things as they like in their own mind.

When you ask me what I'm afraid of, I'd say I still go to see ghost movies when I get a chance or some sort of supernatural being, but it doesn't scare me as it scared me when I was a child.

I think that we're all mentally ill. Those of us outside the asylums only hide it a little better - and maybe not all that much better after all.

There's something in us that is very much attracted to madness. Everyone who looks off the edge of a tall building has felt at least a faint, morbid urge to jump. And anyone who has ever put a loaded pistol up to his head... All right, my point is this: even the most well-adjusted person is holding onto his or her sanity by a greased rope. I really believe that. The rationality circuits are shoddily built into the human animal.