You chose to be a writer. Because you don’t really live in this world. You observe it. You interpret it. You feed off of it. And then you sit and you put words together so that the poor suckers who do live in the world can see what they look like, who they are, why they hurt. And you chose it because you want love and attention and barrels of money. It’s f***ing insane. But those are the only things that can fill that hole in your soul.[to Harry]
