It's The Rare Book That's

So…” Kimball Looks At His Book Helplessly. “there’s Nothing You Can Tell Me About Paul Owen?” “well.” I Sigh. “he Led What I Suppose Was An Orderly Life, I Guess. “ Really Stumped, I Offer, “he...ate A Balanced Diet.

Writing A Novel Is Not Method Acting And I Find It Easy To Step Out Of It At Cocktail Hour.

I Had All The Characteristics Of A Human Being—flesh, Blood, Skin, Hair—but My Depersonalization Was So Intense, Had Gone So Deep, That My Normal Ability To Feel Compassion Had Been Eradicated, The Victim Of A Slow, Purposeful Erasure. I Was Simply Imitating Reality, A Rough Resemblance Of A Human Being, With Only A Dim Corner Of My Mind Functioning

The Smiths Are Singing And Someone Says "turn That Gay Angst Music Off.

The Images I Had Were Of People Being Driven Mad By Living In The City. Images Of Parents Who Were So Hungry And Unfulfilled That They Ate Their Own Children.