It was possible to feel superior to other people and feel like a misfit at the same time.

We knew, finally, that the girls were really women in disguise, that they understood love and even death, and that our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.

Biology gives you a brain. Life turns it into a mind.

When I wrote The Virgin Suicides, I gave myself very strict rules about the narrative voice: the boys would only be able to report what they had seen or found or what had been told to them.

Basically what we have here is a dreamer. Somebody out of touch with reality. When she jumped, she probably thought she'd fly

It was one of those humid days when the atmosphere gets confused. Sitting on the porch, you could feel it: the air wishing it was water.

In the end, the tortures tearing the Lisbon girls pointed to a simple reasoned refusal to accept the world as it was handed down to them, so full of flaws.

Depression is like a bruise that never goes away. A bruise in your mind. You just got to be careful not to touch it where it hurts. It's always there, though.

You never get over it, but you get to where it doesn't bother you so much.

It was like autumn, looking at her. it was like driving up north to see the colors.

She held herself very straight, like Audrey Hepburn, whom all women idolize and men never think about.

I therefore claim to show, not how men think in myths, but how myths operate in men's minds without their being aware of the fact.

The only thing worse than a Mets game is a Mets doubleheader.

I bow at His Feet constantly, and pray to Him, the Guru, the True Guru, has shown me the Way.

I'm quite a smiley guy, I have my moments, but I think I'm generally of a relatively optimistic nature.

A wise man told me don't argue with fools. Cause people from a distance can't tell who is who.

Continue reading Proust. His magnificent intelligence is particularly fond of describing stupidity. Which is ultimately exhausting.

Whatever happens, I train hard for the fans and their support.

Carter Kane, 14, died tragically in Paris when he was eaten by his sister’s cat Muffin.

It could be my British need for discipline that makes me admire the American appetite for freedom and passion.

I've got a portrait in the Smithsonian. Who ever thought that would happen?