Sooner or later we all lose our loved ones. We all have to suffer, every last one of us.

There's not some finite amount of pain inside us. Our bodies and minds just keep manufacturing more of it.

I no longer believe that just about everything is funny, if viewed from the proper angle.

It's like the human race has been programmed for misery.

I really wanted to be a musician, but it turned out I had no sense of time.

I'm not sure that it's possible to write a novel about people who don't transgress or stumble, people who don't surprise themselves with the things they do, people who can explain all their actions with perfect logical consistency. At least it's not possible for me to write that sort of novel.

Because, really, what was worse than lying wide-awake in the dark, watching your life drip away, one irreplaceable minute after another?