The Federal Department of Odds and Ends: sweepus underum carpetae.
If you don't understand your limitations you won't achieve much in your life.
When you start searching for your name, you might be thrilled with what a lot of people say and it just takes one person. And it can hurt your feelings, but I have been aware of the fan bases and stuff like that and realize how deeply involved they are.
I've had moments in my life where it was all out on the table. Everything I had. I'm okay with that, because I had a strong belief that what I was doing other people could believe in it, too, if I can get it just right.
I try to please myself. I don't try to anticipate what people want to see.
I have a tremendous belief in people, not that people don't let me down, not that I haven't maybe let some people down. But I have a tremendous belief in people and in the common experience.
Conventional wisdom can get us into so much trouble, especially as artists.
Identity is a bag and a gag. Yet it exists for me with all the force of a fatal disease. Obviously I am here, a mind and a body. To say there's no proof my body exists would be arty and specious and if my mind is more ephemeral, less provable, the solution of being a writer with solid (touchable, tearable, burnable) books is as close as anyone has come to a perfect answer.
I had lived in New York since 1996, sometimes in the worst neighborhoods, without even locking my door half the time.
Every once in a while, something happens to you that makes you realise that the human race is not quite as bad as it so often seems to be.
I hate that you don't have the insight. I hate that you shamelessly returned despite being kicked out. I hate that you don't even seem to have the slightest self-respect. And also the fact that you used San as your "heart-wrenching" excuse to return. Back to this hell-hole.