I already read everything. I read poems and plays and novels and newspapers and comic books and magazines. I read tins in supermarkets and leaflets that come through the door, unsolicited mail. None of it...

It’s asking for trouble to listen to music alone.

No matter how dark the room gets I can always see. It looks emptier when I put the lights on so I don’t do it if I can help it. Brightness disagrees with me: it...

You would think there’s a natural limit to tears: only so much the body can give at one sitting before it runs dry.