“I have my own set of survival techniques. I am patient. I know how to pack light. But my one might travel talent is that I can make friends with anybody. I can make friends with the dead. If there isn’t anyone else around to talk to, I could probably make friends with a four-foot-tall pile of sheetrock. That is why I’m not afraid to travel to the most remote places in the world, not if there are human beings there to meet. People asked me before I left, “do you have friends [there]?’ and I would just shake my head no, thinking to myself, But I will.”

“It’s good to see your friends happy, isn’t it? (Nick)How would I know? I have no friends. People basically suck and all friends will screw you over in the end. Take my word for it. (Savitar)Then why am I here? (Nick)Hell if I know. (Savitar)”

“It's not that I feel alone because I have no friends because I have lots of friends. I know that I have people who can hold me and reassure me and talk to ne and care for me and think of me but they can't be inside my head with me all the time - for all time.”

“How am I going to make friends with these people if all I can think of is how easy it would be to rob them?”

“I don’t think of myself as a writer. I’m troubled and stupid like everyone else. I grew up with the streets. I have dead friends, friends in prison, friends who are prostitutes, on drugs, drunk, married to shitty men. I write because I need to write, to make sense of life. Honesty is everything to me.”

“This rootless shifting east and west I can't suppress a smile myself but how else can I make the whole world my home. If any of my old friends come around asking say I'm down at the river by the Second Fushimi Bridge.”