Being able to write becomes a kind of shield, a way of hiding, a way of too instantly transforming pain into honey.
We take our bearings, daily, from others. To be sane is, to a great extent, to be sociable.
The – writing is a kind of act of aggression, and a person who is not aggressive in his normal, may I say, intercourse with humanity might well be an aggressive writer.
I want to write books that unlock the traffic jam in everybody’s head.
If you have the guts to be yourself, other people’ll pay your price.
Celebrity is a mask that eats into the face.
Dreams come true; without that possibility, nature would not incite us to have them.
The world keeps ending but new people too dumb to know it keep showing up as if the fun’s just started.
Religion enables us to ignore nothingness and get on with the jobs of life.
I’m not against TV; I don’t go on the morning talk shows because I’m not invited. If I was, I might go.
Vagueness and procrastination are ever a comfort to the frail in spirit.
Every marriage tends to consist of an aristocrat and a peasant. Of a teacher and a learner.
School is where you go between when your parents can’t take you and industry can’t take you.
Living is a compromise, between doing what you want and doing what other people want.
People go around mourning the death of God; it’s the death of sssin that bothers me. Without ssin, people aren’t people any more, they’re just ssoul-less sheep.
It’s not up to us what we learn, but merely whether we learn through joy or through pain.
Hoping to fashion a mirror, the lover doth polish the face of his beloved until he produces a skull.
Life, too much of it, and not enough. The fear that it will end some day, and the fear that tomorrow will be the same as yesterday.
We are cruel enough without meaning to be.
If you’re telling me I’m not mature, that’s one thing I don’t cry over since as far as I can make out it’s the same thing as being dead.