She was afraid, and the afraid, she realized, sought opportunities for bravery in love.

This is what happened in love. One of you cried a lot and then both of you grew sarcastic.

They had, finally, the only thing anyone really wants in life: someone to hold your hand when you die.

You can't be brave if you've only had wonderful things happen to you.

If you record the world honestly, there's no way people can stop being funny. A lot of fiction writing doesn't get that idea, as if to acknowledge it would trivialize the story or trivialize human nature, when in fact human nature is reduced and falsified if the comic aspects are not included.

I don't sit down to write a funny story. Every single thing I sit down to write is meant to be sad.