Things Are Rough All Over.

I Guess I Just Couldn't See Standing There -- Alive, Talking, Thinking, Breathing, Being -- One Second, And Dead The Next. It Really Bothered Me. Death By Violence Isn't The Same As Dying Any Other Way, Accident Or Disease Or Old Age. It Just Ain't The Same.

California Is Like A Beautiful Wild Kid On Heroin, High As A Kite And Thinking She's On Top Of The World, Not Knowing She's Dying, Not Believing It Even If You Show Her The Marks.

You Know A Guy A Longtime, And I Mean Really Know Him, You Don't Get Used To The Idea That He's Dead Just Overnight.

I Go Straight From Thinking About My Narrator To Being Him.

I Was Desperate For Something To Read That Dealt Realistically With Teenage Life, And I Thought Others Might Be, Too.