Occasionally people ask me how it is I write different types of things, and my answer to that is it’s very natural. You get bored writing one kind of thing all the time.
My idea of life, it’s what happens when they’re rolling the credits.
Keep thinking. You can hear our brains rattling around inside us, like the littler Russian dolls.
The sky was as blue as a stupid postcard, and the islands were as green as islands.
There’s an ancient saying in Japan, that life is like walking from one side of infinite darkness to another, on a bridge of dreams. They say that we’re all crossing the bridge of dreams together. That there’s nothing more than that. Just us, on the bridge of dreams.
Of course, I had my heart broken as a teen. I was desperately in love with myself. Then I found out that I was completely shallow. I haven’t spoken to myself since.
I’ve always enjoyed that kind of thing – thinking about the production of narrative and why it is that when we read a novel, we don’t notice the fact that someone who might be very close-mouthed or tight-lipped is perfectly willing to tell us a story in 600 or 700 pages.
I feel like it’s important every once in a while to estrange ourselves from the familiar to remind ourselves of the potentialities of people, how many different ways there are of being.
I write for teens partially to work out whatever it was that I needed to from my own teenage years.
I completely love music. I used to be the music critic at ‘The Improper Bostonian.’ It’s just something I’ve always loved very deeply.
Empedolces claims that in utero, our backbone is one long solid; and that through the constriction of the womb and the punishments of birth it must be snapped again and again to form our vertebrae; that for the child to have a spine, his back must first be broken.
I could see my face, crying, in her blank eye.
We all flee in hope of finding some ground of security.
We Americans are interested only in the consumption of our products. We have no interest in how they are produced, or what happens to them once we discard them, once we throw them away.
And I realize that the decision to be human is not one single instant, but is a thousand choices made very day. It is choices we make every second and requires constant vigilance. We have to fight to remain human.
We went to the moon to have fun, but the moon turned out to completely suck.
There are times when friendship feels like running down a hill together as fast as you can, jumping over things, spinning around, and you don’t care where you’re going, and you don’t care where you’ve come from, because all that matters is speed, and the hands holding your hands.