I do not believe in a personal God.
Judgment is such a useful shield, isn't it? We can hide behind it, rise above others on its crest, keep ourselves safe and separate.
If I weren't a writer, I'd be a psychiatrist.
The woman I was seems hopelessly naive. I envy her.
Today something interesting happened. I died.
I don't believe in mistakes. Never have. I believe that there are a multitude of paths before us and it's just a matter of which way we walk home. I don't believe in regret. If you regret things about your life, than I'll bet that you're not paying attention. Regret is just imagining that you know what would have happened if you took that job in California or married your high-school sweetheart or just looked one more time before you stepped out into the street. . . or didn't. But you don't know; you can't possibly know.
When you're young it's easy to confuse passion for love.
We hide so well. This is the bottom line: how hidden is male subjectivity? Name five books where male subjectivity is produced in an honest way.
Speeches are not magic and there is no great speech without great policy.
One can only remember what has been consciously experienced.
Outside every fat man there is an even fatter man trying to close in.