I started writing short fiction very briefly, as I imagine is the case for some novelists.

Time moves in one direction, memory in another.

And, for an instant, she stared directly into those soft blue eyes and knew, with an instinctive mammalian certainty, that the exceedingly rich were no longer even remotely human.

Generation X is dead. It has come to mean anyone aged 13 to 55 years old.

I took Punk to be the detonation of some slow-fused projectile buried deep in society's flank a decade earlier, and I took it to be, somehow, a sign.

The future has already arrived. It's just not evenly distributed yet.

I think that technologies are morally neutral until we apply them. It's only when we use them for good or for evil that they become good or evil.

When you want to know how things really work, study them when they're coming apart.

Language is to the mind more than light is to the eye.

People who feel safer with a gun than with guaranteed medical insurance don't yet have a fully adult concept of scary.

We are that strange species that constructs artifacts intended to counter the natural flow of forgetting.

You have already lost if you are always fearful of losing everything.

The intellect can only think about or analyze joy, but cannot feel it.

Oblivion is the rule and fame the exception, of humanity.

Maybe crying is a means of cleaning yourself out emotionally. Or maybe it's your last resort; the only way to express yourself when words fail, the same as when you were a baby and had no words.

I think Barack Obama is a one-term President.

People have to identify with something to show they have reached a certain goal. Anyway, in Russia it's done with medals. You put on all these medals to show who you are.

A wet dream in the mind of New York.

Now, no matter what the mullah teaches, there is only one sin, only one. And that is theft. Every other sin is a variation of theft.

Knowledge isn’t love

Take my friends and my home - as an outcast I'll roam: Take the money I have in the bank: It is just what I wish, but deprive me of fish, And my life would indeed be blank.