Super Sad True Love Story: A Novel

If only I had had a proclivity to draw or paint. Why did I have to suffer that ancient Jewish affliction for words?

By reading this message you are denying its existence and implying consent.

How could I trick her into aligning her youth with my decrepitude?

I coughed into my hand, a painful chill across my body, as if an iceberg had stabbed me in the anus.

Christmas Cake already.

If we have only one life to live, we might as well not have lived at all.”