“A lady should be respectful," is all he manages through gritted teeth. He pitches the towel in the corner.Miriam snorts. "That's me. My fair fuckin' lady.”

“He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He didn't even want to feel the way he did for the dog, for Creampuff--GoddamnitGoddamnit"Goddamnit!" he snarled. Ginger blinked. Incredulous he explained: "They took my dog, Ginger. They stole my terrier." He popped each of his knuckles. "They didn't just abandon me after I got them through, after I kept them alive. They rubbed salt on my wound while they pissed in my eyes. I can't believe they stole my dog."Coburn grabbed the kid by his all too-clean shirt and shook him like a baby. "Listen. You're going to drive me to go get Creampuff, my terrier...”

“We're all the heroes of our own tales. Even villains.”

“Creativity needs time. We’re all dying. Fuck stagnation. High-five creation.”

“Stories are like wine; they need time. So take the time. This isn’t a hot dog eating contest. You’re not being judged on how much you write but rather, how well you do it. Sure, there’s a balance — you have to be generative, have to be swimming forward lest you sink like a stone and find remora fish mating inside your rectum. But generation and creativity should not come at the cost of quality. Give your stories and your career the time and patience it needs.”

“Always quick with the wit. It's your defense, isn't it? Little girl doesn't want the world to know how sad she is, how damaged. Your words, your attitude, all a big misdirection. A magician's trick.”

“If you want to find the way forward, then stop looking for maps and start walking.”