It felt good, the whole family together on a sunny morning in a wholesome environment. If it hadn't been for the warshiping God part, he would have happily attended church on a regular basis.

After all, what was adult life but one moment of weakness piled on top of another? Most people just fell in line like obedient little children, doing exactly what society expected of them at any given moment, all the while pretending that they’d actually made some sort of choice.

Once you'd broken through that invisible barrier that separates one person from another, you were connected forever, whether you liked it or not.

It's not the cheating. It's the hunger for an alternative. The refusal to accept unhappiness.

It just so happened that for most of my life I've lived in the suburbs.

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

The interesting part about the writing process is that you can never see all the way to the end, not if something is happening over the course of a year and a half, or two years.