“I want to write my own eulogy, and I want to write it in Latin. It seems only fitting to read a dead language at my funeral.”

“Writer’s want to write something that’ll live forever. I don’t. What do I care if my writing lives forever if I won’t? I just want to be recognized while I’m still alive. 
”

“I want my writing to be as smooth as drinking a glass of water—pool water, with piss in it.”

“Even though I know my own name (barely), I still sometimes write my name wrong. Usually it only happens when I write in cursive and am endorsing checks for money I can’t recall earning.”

“A Cyclops on a unicycle juggling three giant eyeballs couldn’t compare to the balanced vision my writing presents. In fact, noted linguist and translation expert Dora J. Arod had these flattering words to say about my writing: “I wouldn’t read Jarod’s writing—not even if he paid me to read it. And he does pay me to read his writing, but that doesn’t mean I do.” Of course the quote continued on, but that was the only part that was praising.”

“Only the living can read. This means that when I write, my target market is people of the future. Greetings, people of the moon!
”

“Who inspires me to write? My clone. I just want him to appreciate me as a person.”