I like to think of myself as a fiction writer who liked art enough to write about it for a while, and then went on to his fiction.

There are only two mantras, yum and yuck, mine is yum.

If complexity doesn't beat you, paradox will.

Heaven is living in your hopes and Hell is living in your fears. It's up to each individual which one he chooses.

It's good to bear in mind that like it or not, enlightenment has always been, even in a golden age, pretty much limited to an elite.

They fell asleep smiling. It is to erase the fixed smiles of sleeping couples that Satan trained roosters to crow at five in the morning.

The theme of corporate stories (and millions drink them in every day) seldom varies: to be happy you must consume, to be special you must conform. Absurd, obviously, yet our identities have become so fragile, so elusive, that we seem content to let advertisers provide us with their version of who we are, to let them recreate us in their image: a cookie-cutter image based on market research, shallow sociology, and insidious lies.