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I wanted to be a citizen of the empire called American Express.

On a scale of 1 to 10, the pain dissolves like a Eucharist wafer.

Let me tell you stories about lands far from here where you are absent.

My grandmother read one of my early stories and warned—don’t force your muse.

A more typical writing day for me is being constantly interrupted.

In narrative terms, sex is the propeller that moves the story along.

Love’s not all that fun, but it saves you. And you should be saved.

What’s the most useful criticism you’ve received? “Keep writing.”

This is kind of a big, wet valentine, isn’t it? Shouldn’t you throw it out?

It helped me free myself from a longtime source of unhappiness.

Henry Chinaski is just so deplorable and lovable; he makes me laugh.

I’m obsessed with finding a convertible that has enough room.

Dr. Seuss taught me something about the way words can be used.

Most days, at the pool, we are able to leave our troubles on land behind.

Favorite character? What a question. It’s like choosing a favorite child.

I know now not to measure my insides against others’ outsides.

There’s something to stepping right out of your dreams and onto the page.

I usually get my best writing done at night or at the close of day.

Some goals: stop buying jeans. Stop being angry at mom/dad/sister.

Gresham’s law. Stupid talk chases smart talk out of circulation.

We spit out the black seeds, bits of night glistening on the grass.

We called for the dead dog because toddlers do not understand death.

That summer we moved to the house you would die in years later.

For today, fuck it, it’s snowing, stay in. Eat your Wheaties dry.

Here is the fat guy whose Chihuahua gnawed through his stomach.

Time, now more than ever, is of the essence. Time is all there is.

The ideal way of presenting character is to invite perception.

Nothing stills, nothing stops. The world is still as it was before.

This is all there is. Nothing else. No heaven and no hell, okay?