Maybe This Was One Of Those Times

Most People Carry That Pain Around Inside Them Their Whole Lives, Until They Kill The Pain By Other Means, Or Until It Kills Them. But You, My Friends, You Found Another Way: A Way To Use The Pain. To Burn It As Fuel, For Light And Warmth. You Have Learned To Break The World That Has Tried To Break You.

The Novel Is A Highly Corrupt Medium, After All - In The End The Vast Majority Of Them Simply Aren't That Great, And Are Destined To Be Forgotten.

You Don't Want To Move Toward Some Utopian Literary Situation Where Everybody's Free Of All Conventions. That's Ridiculous! Conventions Are What You Need. You Have Nothing To Break Down If You Don't Have Conventions.

Though The Funny Thing About Never Being Asked For Anything Is That After A While You Start To Feel Like Maybe You Don’t Have Anything Worth Giving.

The Problem With Growing Up Is That Once You're Grown Up, The People Who Aren't Grown Up Aren't Fun Anymore.