He would say her name over and over until it devolved into meaningless sounds - mah REI kuh, mah REI kuh - it became an entry in a dictionary of loneliness.

Why do you have a cigarette lighter in your glove compartment?" her husband, Jack, asked her. "I'm bored with knitting. I've taken up arson

He was not in the house. He did not come back that night. Days went by, and at last she understood that he would not return at all.

That is what madness is, isn't it? All the wheels fly off the bus and things don't make sense any more. Or rather, they do, but it's not a kind of sense anyone else can understand.

You're my phantom limb, Mouse. I keep looking for you. I forget. I feel stupid, Mouse. Haunt me, find me, come back from wherever you are. Be with me.

When we were that young we invented the world, no one could tell us a thing.

... fantasy is not practice for what is real—fantasy is the opiate of women.

Before there were books, we read each other.

Modern intelligence won't accept anything on authority. But it will accept anything without authority.

Be good to your sacred self.

Ticketmaster does not set prices. Live Nation does not set ticket prices. Artists set ticket prices.

The world is beautiful but not sayable. That's why we need art.

From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached.

It's frightening that skepticism has to be a movement, because you're just arguing that reality is reality. What a waste of energy, in a way.

I'm just starting to take some more voice lessons but hell no, I'll always stick into the hip-hop genre.

What happened to your hand? It got hit by a mirror. How'd that happen? I lost my temper at myself.