His age the only thing his bone-dry honesty is attributable to, honesty—or rather bravery—of the sort that is required for any of us to come to terms with the fact that life is inherently dull, ordinary and that literature is dangerous and scary

Past is one thing I am rooted to—so terribly, hopelessly and ruinously that I’d jump at every single chance I get to repeat it

There are metaphors and there is poetry all the time, but never solace

The road didn’t have hairpin bends but the smallest of turns knocked heads against many things

I always leave my Rubik’s cube just a few turns and spins away from solution. I do so purely on purpose.

He will agree to let you read some of the stories he wrote after all the coaxing and pledging you will do. There will be a story that will read like nothing you have read in a long, long tim