Can a writer forget something that he’s written in one of his own books? Yes, of course.

Each of us – rich and poor, gay and straight, black and white – we are fragile and finite. We all go through this glorious life without guarantees, without promises of rescue or redemption. We have freedom of speech and religion, and the absolute freedom to leave behind our loved ones, or to force them to unhappily pursue us.

If human beings possessed endless possibilities, then cities contained exponential hopes.

Seattle is Sweden! Extremely liberal, progressive, and very white, with a strong undercurrent of racism.

I thought maybe if you wore different clothes at school,′ Paul said, ‘maybe you could start a trend. You’d be original.’ ‘Oh, my God,’ she said. ‘It’s high school, Dad. People get beat up for being original.

And that’s when I knew that I was going to be okay.

And ready to seizure at any moment. But still useful, and maybe even a little bit beautiful and sacred and magical.

He was the loser Indian father of a loser Indian son living in a world built for winners.

The fear of poetry was multicultural and timeless.

If you can catch crazy, I’m a walking epidemic.