Do the scary thing first, and get scared later.
There are some secrets you want to keep to yourself, even if they don’t matter. They might only matter if you keep them secret.
It is my fate that some of my questions will never be answered.
For Beatrice- When we were together I felt breathless. Now you are.
It is easy to decide on what is wrong to wear to a party, such as deep-sea diving equipment or a pair of large pillows, but deciding what is right is much trickier.
Besides getting several paper cuts in the same day or receiving the news that someone in your family has betrayed you to your enemies, one of the most unpleasant experiences in life is a job interview.
I kind of always think my work is unfilmable, and when I meet people who are interested in filming it, I’m always stunned.
I was not a particularly brave child, I think, because I had a narrative mind, because my mind automatically went to any terrible thing that could happen.
I like writing for movies. It’s nice to be alone working on fiction in your room, and then it’s nice to be in a room with a bunch of people working on a movie.
I’m always interested to see what films are made of books. I kind of don’t participate as a filmgoer in any kind of debate about what’s better, the book or the movie. So I think it’s interesting when people want to do it.
There is only laughing across the land as the car moves you along, on your way someplace with love in the car.
Take back the smile and the night, take it all back, I wish I could.
But just suddenly I really, really needed to see you again right that minute, that night.
It is one of the peculiar truths of life that people often say things that they know full well are ridiculous.
He who hesitates is lost.
A good thing to do when one is sitting, eating, and resting is to have a conversation.
That night it felt that somehow by flicking them off the roof, the matches would burn down everything, the sparks from the tips of the flames, torching the world and all the heartbroken people in it.
Stretched out in front of me was my time as an adult, and then a skeleton, and then nothing except perhaps a few books on a few shelves.
But the world did not match the picture in my head, and instead I was with a strange, uncombed person, overlooking a sea without water and a forest without trees.
It is very difficult to make one’s way in this world without being wicked at one time or another, when the world’s way is so wicked to being with.