Grief, He Said, Is Carnivorous.

I Have A Lot Of Rage About Things That Didn't Happen To Me, Tied Up With Watching An Immigrant, Working-class Father Struggle To Make His Way Through The World - And Seeing How Society Was Modeled To Keep Him In His Place.

Chuck Said, “hey. How Many Surrealists Does It Take To Screw In A Lightbulb?” Cawley Looked Over At Him. “i’ll Bite. How Many?” “fish,” Chuck Said And Let Loose A Bright Bark Of A Laugh.

And He Hated Himself And Hated Her,too, For The Ruin They'd Made Of Each Other.

I Was Not Going To Use Writing For Advertising Or Journalism. I Would Tend Bar, Load Trucks, Chauffeur - Do Whatever It Took. But From The Moment I Took My First Writing Workshop, I Was A Writer.

Your First Family Is Your Blood Family And You Always Be True To That. That Means Something. But There's Another Family And That's The Kind You Go Out And Find. Maybe Even By Accident Sometimes. And They're As Much Blood As Your First Family. Maybe More So, Because They Don't Have To Look Out For You And They Don't Have To Love You. They Choose To.