“She wouldn't have sex with me in public bathrooms. Little things like this haunted me. I was only twenty-five.”

“People who read me seem to be divided into four groups: twenty-five percent like me for the right reasons; twenty-five percent like me for the wrong reasons; twenty-five percent hate me for the wrong reasons; twenty-five percent hate me for the right reasons. It's that last twenty-five percent that worries me.”

“There is one thing. One thing that haunts me from page one to page twenty-two. I have never spoken of it. I have never told another person”

“I have a system with bathrooms. I spend a lot of time in them. They are sanctuaries, public places of peace spaced throughout the world for people like me.”

“Nothing I have witnessed, from lava to crustacean, assailed me liked the caked debris haunting that small plastic soap hammock in the smaller of the bathrooms. Nausea is not a sufficient word.”

“We walk into the lobby of the hotel and I try not to grin at the man behind the counter. I refrain from screaming, "I'm going to have sex! With this gorgeous woman. She want to have sex. I didn't even have to ask, she just want to have sex. With me! Can you believe it?" I take deep breaths and try to downplay that this moment is the highlight of my life. Air kicks and high-fives probably wouldn't be a cool more right now.”