“You see, literary culture is perpetually dead and dying; and when some respected writer discovers and loudly proclaims the finality of this fact, it is a forensic marker of their own decomposition. It means that they have artistically expired within the last ten years, and that they will corporeally expire within the next twenty.”
“When all that’s left of us is the pure untainted consciousness without form, we’ll know what it means when the last human breath expires.”
“See, when you're a little kid, nobody ever warns you that you've got an expiration date. One day you're hot stuff and the next day you're a dirt sandwich.”
“Alone with my wine and my misery, I was convinced that life was composed of a string of “if only’s” leading from one self-inflicted bungle to the next until at some point, one’s final iteration of the excuse became one’s final utterance, and one expired.”
“Last time I checked, women didn’t come with expiration dates.”
“Is there an expiration date on marriages nowadays? ...For some people, yes.”