I could stay living in this city if they just installed Blaupunkts in the cabs.
There’s no use in denying it: this has been a bad week. I’ve started drinking my own urine.
Michel Houellebecq is the most interesting, provocative and important European novelist of my generation. Period. No one else comes close. He has written two or maybe three great books, and his latest, The Map and the Territory, is one of them.
It’s because you’re always fighting sentiment. You’re fighting sentimentality all of the time because being a mother alerts you in such a primal way.
I’m on the verge of tears by the time we arrive at Pastels since I’m positive we won’t get seated but the table is good, and relief that is almost tidal in scope washes over me in an awesome wave.
I tried to make meat loaf out of the girl but it becomes too frustrating a task and instead I spend the afternoon smearing her meat all over the walls, chewing on strips of skin I ripped from her body.
I have to return some videotapes.
I think in life, there are certain choices you make that are timeless and universal, and don’t necessarily have anything to do with the particulars of a certain decade.
We buy balloons, we let them go.
Everyone I know who is successful has issues with their father, regardless of whether it was sports or business or entertainment.
By the time you finish reading this sentence, a Boeing jetliner will take off or land somewhere in the world.
And as things fell apart, nobody paid much attention.
I don’t know why I write what I write.
What else is there to do in college except drink beer or slit one’s wrists?
Rock ‘n’ roll. Deal with it.
With Taipei Tao Lin becomes the most interesting prose stylist of his generation.
My pain is constant and sharp, and I do not hope for a better world for anyone.
History is sinking and only a very few seem dimly aware that things are getting bad.
I had dreamed of something so different from what reality was now offering up, but that dream had been a blind man’s vision. That dream was a miracle. The morning was fading. And I remembered yet again that I was a tourist here.
I am gripped by an existential panic.