“I am a happy camper so I guess I’m doing something right. Happiness is like a butterfly; the more you chase it, the more it will elude you, but if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and sit softly on your shoulder.”

“Happiness is like a butterfly, the more you chase it, the more it will evade you. But if you turn your attention to other things, it will come and softly rest on your shoulder.”

“It isn’t a case of marriage having been tried and found wanting. In this 20th century world, true marriage is deeply wanted, but largely untried.”

“If your happiness depends on what somebody else does, I guess you do have a problem.”

“I would be clapping like a seal right now if I weren't so fucking hungover, just so you know. Inside I am doing happy jumping jacks for you with glittery pom poms.”

“Happiness is like a cat. If you try to coax it or call it, it will avoid you. It will never come. But if you pay no attention to it and go about your business, you'll find it rubbing up against your legs and jumping into your lap.”

“Every morning the maple leaves.Every morning another chapter where the hero shiftsfrom one foot to the other. Every morning the same bigand little words all spelling out desire, all spelling outYou will be alone always and then you will die.So maybe I wanted to give you something more than a catalogof non-definitive acts,something other than the desperation.Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I couldn’t come to your party.Dear So-and-So, I’m sorry I came to your partyand seduced youand left you bruised and ruined, you poor sad thing.You want a better story. Who wouldn’t?A forest, then. Beautiful trees. And a lady singing.Love on the water, love underwater, love, love and so on.What a sweet lady. Sing lady, sing! Of course, she wakes the dragon.Love always wakes the dragon and suddenlyflames everywhere.I can tell already you think I’m the dragon,that would be so like me, but I’m not. I’m not the dragon.I’m not the princess either.Who am I? I’m just a writer. I write things down.I walk through your dreams and invent the future. Sure,I sink the boat of love, but that comes later. And yes, I swallowglass, but that comes later.Let me do it right for once,for the record, let me make a thing of cream and stars that becomes,you know the story, simply heaven.Inside your head you hear a phone ringingand when you open your eyesonly a clearing with deer in it. Hello deer.Inside your head the sound of glass,a car crash sound as the trucks roll over and explode in slow motion.Hello darling, sorry about that.Sorry about the bony elbows, sorry welived here, sorry about the scene at the bottom of the stairwelland how I ruined everything by saying it out loud.Especially that, but I should have known.Inside your head you heara phone ringing, and when you open your eyes you’re washing upin a stranger’s bathroom,standing by the window in a yellow towel, only twenty minutes awayfrom the dirtiest thing you know.All the rooms of the castle except this one, says someone, and suddenlydarkness,suddenly only darkness.In the living room, in the broken yard,in the back of the car as the lights go by. In the airportbathroom’s gurgle and flush, bathed in a pharmacy ofunnatural light,my hands looking weird, my face weird, my feet too far away.I arrived in the city and you met me at the station,smiling in a waythat made me frightened. Down the alley, around the arcade,up the stairs of the buildingto the little room with the broken faucets, your drawings, all your things,I looked out the window and saidThis doesn’t look that much different from home,because it didn’t,but then I noticed the black sky and all those lights.We were inside the train car when I started to cry. You were crying too,smiling and crying in a way that made meeven more hysterical. You said I could have anything I wanted, but Ijust couldn’t say it out loud.Actually, you said Love, for you,is larger than the usual romantic love. It’s like a religion. It’sterrifying. No onewill ever want to sleep with you.Okay, if you’re so great, you do it—here’s the pencil, make it work …If the window is on your right, you are in your own bed. If the windowis over your heart, and it is painted shut, then we are breathingriver water.Dear Forgiveness, you know that recentlywe have had our difficulties and there are many thingsI want to ask you.I tried that one time, high school, second lunch, and then again,years later, in the chlorinated pool.I am still talking to you about help. I still do not havethese luxuries.I have told you where I’m coming from, so put it together.I want more applesauce. I want more seats reserved for heroes.Dear Forgiveness, I saved a plate for you.Quit milling around the yard and come inside.”