I feel like I'm standing in the middle of a crowded room, screaming at the top of my lungs, and no one even looks up.

I like snow. It makes me feel safe.

The best moments in reading are when you come across something — a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things — that you'd thought special, particular to you. And here it is, set down by someone else, a person you've never met, maybe even someone long dead. And it's as if a hand has come out, and taken yours.

Time. We can't see it, we can't hear it, we can't weigh it, we can't measure it in a laboratory. It is a subjective sense of becoming what we are instead of what we were a nanosecond ago, becoming what we will be in another nanosecond.

I showed him my toys, my noose setup, among other things. It's a way you sort of hang yourself, but not really. It feels good while you... Well, you know.

People are afraid when they can't link a feeling with another one.

I sense...space. A kinda latitude of what we happily call reality, in which, as everybody keeps saying... anything's possible.

— I'm going to eat food with a man, yes.
— How do you feel?
— Oh, um, well, you know, when you're holding a hot cup of coffee and you realize you're going to sneeze? That's how I feel.

Do people have to kill each other to — give them a heightened sense of life?