I love New York, even though it isn't mine, the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it.

I remember things the way they should have been.

Leave it to me: I'm always top banana in the shock department.

A man who doesn't dream is like a man who doesn't sweat. He stores up a lot of poison.

Never love a wild thing...If you let yourself love a wild thing. You'll end up looking at the sky.

Hot weather opens the skull of a city, exposing its white brain, and its heart of nerves, which sizzle like the wires inside a lightbulb. And there exudes a sour extra-human smell that makes the very stone seem flesh-alive, webbed and pulsing.

Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor.