The great thing about writing is that...you can do all these antisocial things and you get paid for them and nobody ever arrests you because they're all make-believe. Then that way if you were actually ever driven to do any of those things, the pressure's off because you'd have already written them down. It's therapy.

You cannot hope to sweep someone else away by the force of your writing until it has been done to you.

There were people who lied for gain, people who lied from pain, people who lied simply because the concept of telling the truth was utterly alien to them . . . and then there were people who lied because they were waiting for it to be time to tell the truth.

You discarded most of the lies along the way but held on to the one that said life mattered.

Madness is a kind of mental suicide.

If I can get it down on paper without puking all over the word processor, then as far as I'm concerned, it's fit to see the light of day.

A life without love is like a tree without fruit.