“I'm twenty years old and look at me-- there isn't a thing I want to do”

“what's the matter?" he asked "nothing""what do you want me to do for you?""i want you to be old. ten years older. twenty years older"what she meant was: i want you to be weak. as weak as i am.”

“I think I'm always looking to write for the 12 year old in me.”

“I remember when I was twenty-five,” he said. “No client comes to you when you’re twenty-five. It’s like when you are looking for a doctor. You don’t want the new one that just graduated. You don’t want the very old one, the one shaking, the one twenty years past his prime. You want the seasoned one who has done it so many times he can do it in his sleep though. Same thing with attorneys.”

“It really is the year 2007. Which means I must be...Oh my God. I'm twenty-eight.I'm old.”

“It doesn't bother me," I said. "If you don't mind looking forty years old at twenty, smelling like an ashtray, and getting lung cancer, why should I?”