I dreamed of you. I dreamed you were wandering in the dark, and so was I. We found each other. We found each other in the dark.

He pointed toward the silhouettes on the side of the [bathrooms] instead--black cutout man, black cutout woman. The man had his legs apart, the woman had hers together. Pretty much the story of the human race in sign language.

For me, good description usually consists of a few well-chosen details that will stand for everything else.

Symbolism exists to adorn and enrich, not to create an artificial sense of profundity.

Love isn't soft, like the poets say. Love has teeth which bite and the wounds never close.

Pride was the belt you used to hold your pants up when you had no pants.

Only enemies speak the truth; friends and lovers lie endlessly, caught in the web of duty.