Because it's much more pleasant to be obsessed over how the hero gets out of his predicament than it is over how I get out of mine.

I can't do anything to death, doctor's orders.

The difference between sex and death is, death you can do alone and nobody laughs at you.

Someday the lion is going to lie down with the lamb, but the lamb isn't going to get much sleep.

Maybe the poets are right. Maybe love is the only answer.

What if nothing exists and we're all in somebody's dream? Or what's worse, what if only that fat guy in the third row exists?

In the shower, with the hot water coming down, you've left the real world behind, and very frequently things open up for you. It's the change of venue, the unblocking the attempt to force the ideas that's crippling you when you're trying to write.