Fiction is the lie that helps us understand the truth.

A lie, sometimes, can be truer than the truth, which is why fiction gets written.

When your afraid,reallyafraid, you see things you never saw before, you pay attention to the world.

They carried the sky. The whole atmosphere, they carried it, the humidity, the monsoons, the stink of fungus and decay, all of it, they carried gravity.

...you find yourself studying the fine colors on the river, you feel wonder and awe at the setting of the sun, and you are filled with a hard, aching love for how the world could be and always should be, but now is not.

Laughter does not deny pain. Laughter - like a wail - acknowledges and replies to pain.

Did I choose this life of illusion? Don't be mad. My bed was made, I just lied in it.