It was not a big smile, not particularly bold or polite or ironic or glib, not asking for anything or offering anything, not stringy or careless, not….

I felt a momentary urge to leap into the sea and swim free of the present..

If you have the patience to wait and watch, history will reshape truth (weakest of all forces, and weightless) in the image of opinion. What really h….

Fate is trying to kill me. I miss my dog. What's a doctor going to say? You're not ill, you're mad as a muffin? They'll either lock me up or tell me ….

It's not that he lacked poetry. But his poetry was of the body, not the mind. He spoke it in the way he moved, the way he held a hammer, rowed a boat….

She frowned at him. 'You are in love with solitude.' 'Is there a better cure for the world than solitude?.

The imagination can be dangerous. It can change the world. And that is why we write..

While working in advertising, I channelled my creative energy into elaborate escape fantasies: cake making, dog breeding, the Peace Corps..

And after awhile of this my brain and my body and every single inch of me that was alive was flooded with the feeling that I was starving, starving f….

Every war has turning points and every person too..

I don't get nearly enough credit in life for the things I manage not to say..

Osbert was the only one who didn't seem suspicious. He was so interested in the Decline of Western Civilization that he missed the version of it taki….

Perhaps the way to succeed is to think of life on Earth as a colossal joke, a creation of such immense stupidity that the only way to live is to laug….

I'd like to think life has improved since 1850, despite the long hours we all seem to spend slaving over hot computers, but the psychological journey….

After all this time, I know exactly where I belong..

Your writing voice is the deepest possible reflection of who you are. The job of your voice is not to seduce or flatter or make well-shaped sentences….

Ask any comedian, tennis player, chef. Timing is everything..

I give thanks for all that has passed, for all that is passing, and for all that is yet to come..

I guess there was a war going on somewhere in the world that night but it wasn't one that could touch us..

it was love, of course, though I didn't know it then and Finn was both its subject and object. He accepted love instinctively, without responsibility….

Somewhere along the line I'd lost the will not to eat..