You realize you have no control over how you’re perceived.
I would say any behavior that is not the status quo is interpreted as insanity, when, in fact, it might actually be enlightenment. Insanity is sorta in the eye of the beholder.
If death meant just leaving the stage long enough to change costume and come back as a new character, would you slow down? Or speed up?
I don’t remember the hotel rooms or the airports but I always remember the events.
There will always be an underground.
In the big factory of perfecting human souls, the Earth was kind of tumbler. The sale as the kind people use to polish rocks. All souls come here to rub the sharp edges off each other. This isn’t suffering. It’s erosion.
My stories tend to bring people from isolation into community – with at least one other person, usually with a whole community of people – so that they find themselves accepted back by a world that they kind of fled from.
People don’t listen, they just wait for their turn to talk.
If I could wake up in a different place, at a different time, could I wake up as a different person?
If I can’t be beautiful, I want to be invisible.
A comedy ends with a wedding, and a tragedy ends with a funeral: you always have to juxtapose sex and death.
Maybe we have to break everything to make something better out of ourselves.
Find out what you’re afraid of and go live there.
Masochism is a valuable job skill.
Abortion occurs so frequently in my stories. Abortion sort of synthesizes both sex and death. To have sex and death placed as close to one another as possible is always a goal of mine.
Everyone smiles with that invisible gun to their head.
People have to really suffer before they can risk doing what they love.
People don’t want their lives fixed. Nobody wants their problems solved. Their dramas. Their distractions. Their stories resolved. Their messed cleaned up. Because what would they have left? Just the big scary unknown.
Everyone wants to be tested and challenged. Everyone would like a good, honest fight to exhaust their frustrations.
I used to work in a funeral home to feel good about myself, just the fact that I was breathing.