And in real life endings aren't always neat, whether they're happy endings, or whether they're sad endings.

The trick is to teach yourself to read in small sips as well as long swallows.

She might have been pretty when she started out, but the world had moved on since then.

The eyes were damned, the staring, glaring eyes of one who sees but does not see, eyes ever turned inward to the sterile hell of dreams beyond control, dreams unleashed, risen out of the stinking swamps of the unconscious.

Teaching school is like having jumper cables hooked to your brain, draining all the juice out of you.

I don't want to see it anymore. It's lousy. And it's a cheat. You build it all around something... Set yourself on something... And then you don't want it. Isn't it too bad the great truths are all such lies?