Weird Doors Open. People Fall Into Things.

Write Relentlessly, Until You Find Your Voice. Then, Use It.

I Can't Seem To Fathom That The Things Important To Me Are Not Important To Other People As Well, And So I Come Off Sounding Like A Missionary, Someone Whose Job It Is To Convert Rather Than Listen.

People Ask Me, 'have You Ever Considered Doing Stand-up?' To Me It Would Be Less Offensive If Someone Asked Me, 'have You Ever Considered Dental Implants?'

The Good Thing About Being Gay, Though, I Always Believed, Is That You Didn't Make Anyone Go To A Wedding. Nobody Wants To Go To A Wedding. Nobody. It Kind Of Bothers Me Now That You Have To Go To Gay Weddings, Too. I Don't Care. It's Still A Wedding. And I Would Give Anybody Double Gifts If They Would Elope.

Their House Had Real Hardcover Books In It, And You Often Saw Them Lying Open On The Sofa, The Words Still Warm From Being Read.