Boy, it began to rain like a bastard. In buckets, I swear to God. All the parents and mothers and everybody went over and stood right under the roof of the carrousel, so they wouldn’t...

So what do you think?’ He asked, holding up the book.‘I think Salinger is a closet paedophile,’ I replied placidly and was surprised and comforted by this minuscule, acidic, bitter Sylvia Plath like mocking, sniping...

…but don’t tell me I’m not sensitive to beauty. That’s my Achilles’ heel, and don’t you forget it. To me, everything is beautiful. Show me a pink sunset and I’m limp, by God…

If you’re not inthe mood, you can’t do that stuff right.

I’ve read this same sentence about twenty times since you came in.”Anybody else except Ackley would’ve taken the goddamn hint. Not him though…”What the hellya reading?””Goddamn book.”He shoved my book back with his hand so...

I am a kind of paranoid in reverse. I suspect people of trying to make me happy

Who wants flowers when you’re dead? Nobody.