By writing a horror novel where this inexplicable disorder takes over in our ordered lives, you make order look better by comparison. But below that, there's a part of us that responds to the Who bashing their instruments to pieces on the stage. There's a very primitive part that says, "Do it some more."

A place is yours when you know where all the roads go.

I have the world's best job. I get paid to hang out in my imagination all day.

The mind can calculate, but the spirit yearns, and the heart knows what the heart knows

As with all other aspects of fiction, the key to writing good dialogue is honesty.

Some birds are not meant to be caged, that's all. Their feathers are too bright, their songs too sweet and wild. So you let them go, or when you open the cage to feed them they somehow fly out past you. And the part of you that knows it was wrong to imprison them in the first place rejoices, but still, the place where you live is that much more drab and empty for their departure.

I believe that anyone using the phrase 'That's so cool' should have to stand in the corner.