Being With Him Made My Brain Quiet.

In Bed That Night I Invented A Special Drain That Would Be Underneath Every Pillow In New York, And Would Connect To The Reservoir. Whenever People Cried Themselves To Sleep, The Tears Would All Go To The Same Place, And In The Morning The Weatherman Could Report If The Water Level Of The Reservoir Of Tears Had Gone Up Or Down, And You Could Know If New York Is In Heavy Boots.

The Only Thing Worse Than Being Sad Is For Others To Know You Are Sad.

Things Were Happening Around Us, But Nothing Was Happening Between Us.

I Did Not Need To Know If He Could Love Me. I Needed To Know If He Could Need Me.

I'm Not Funny. People Assume That Because My Books Are Funny, I'll Be Funny In Real Life. It's The Inevitable Disappointment Of Meeting Me.