Quotes from David Sedaris

When we went to the beach as children, on or about the fourth day, our father would say, Wouldn't it be nice to buy a cottage down here? We'd get our hopes up and then he would bring practical concerns into it... But still, we wanted one desperately. I told myself when I was young that one day I would buy a beach house and then it would be everyone's. As long as they followed my draconian rules and never stopped thanking me for it.

He tells me that my life is empty, but it isn't quite because I bought some pot today.

He didn't explain how, but then again, no one does. They just say it's your patriotic duty and everyone kind of goes along with it.

Or of the pilot who somberly said as he turned off the seat belt sign at the end of a flight, "All rise.

I don't know how these couples do it, spend hours each night tucking their kids in, reading them books about misguided kittens or seals who wear uniforms, and then rereading them if the child so orders. In my house, our parents put us to bed with two simple words: "Shut up.

It's a pretty grim world when I can't even feel superior to a toddler.

made it. After the desk clerk hands you your key, the bellman will grab your suitcase and ask, "So where are you coming in from today?

It's pathetic how much significance I attach to the Times puzzle, which is easy on Monday and gets progressively harder as the week advances. I'll spend fourteen hours finishing the Friday, and then I'll wave it in someone's face and demand that he acknowledge my superior intelligence. I think it means that I'm smarter than the next guy, but all it really means is that I don't have a life.

When I'm told such stories, it's all I can do to hold back my feelings of jealousy. An Ethiopian slaughterhouse. Some people have all the luck.

I generally start the conversation immediately, that way the person wanting a book signed never has to say the things they've stood in line agonizing over, and that they will most likely regret later on. There are exceptions, though. I was in Baton Rouge in late May 2013, when a woman approached, saying, before I had a chance to throw her off balance, "You got me to put my bra back on." I set down my pen. "I beg your pardon?

Days later, I saw an X-ray of a Bose speaker inside someone. "And it was still connected to Bluetooth," the woman who showed it to me whispered.

I felt my eyes tear up, and as my vision blurred I considered all the people who had fought against this and thought, Take that, assholes.

Shopping has nothing to do with money. If you have it, you go to stores and galleries, and if not, you haunt flea markets or Goodwills. Never, though, do you not do it, choosing instead to visit a park or a temple or some cultural institution where they don't sell things. Our sister-in-law, Kathy, swears by eBay, but I like the social aspect of shopping, the getting out. The touching things and talking to people.

Shopping has nothing to do with money. If you have it, you go to stores and galleries, and if not, you haunt flea markets or Goodwills.

I pulled back because I am not a hugger. Never have been. When someone wraps their arms around me, I shut down and stand there with my eyes closed, waiting for it to be over.

I can see him doing the same thing I am, trying to make some sort of connection. We're like a pair of bad trapeze artists, reaching for each other's hands and missing every time.

With us was her friend Laurie, who's on a hundred-day shopping fast. "It's to teach me to appreciate the things I already have," she said. "I can buy groceries and food, but nothing else—no clothes or music. Not even newspapers

I've finished answering the letters Alyssa gave me a few weeks back. One was from a woman who wrote that when deaf people get their hearing, they're always surprised that the sun makes no noise. They naturally assumed it would roar, though if it did, you'd think it might have been mentioned somewhere along the way, in songs at least. Maybe that's what they thought was meant by "I was awoken by the sun.

The two young women standing nearby had apparently listened in. "Give it to me," one of them said. She wore a lot of foundation, and her eyebrows qualified as drawings.

As a business traveler, you'll likely be met at your destination by someone who asks, "So, how was your flight?" This, as if there are interesting variations and you might answer, "The live orchestra was a nice touch," or "The first half was great, but then they let a baby take over the controls and it got all bumpy." In fact, there are only two kinds of flights: ones in which you die and ones in which you do not.

I'm now told that this is not called 'going to sleep' but rather 'passing out,' a phrase that carries a distinct hint of judgement.

From the dawn of time, the one irrefutably good thing about gay men and lesbians was that we didn't force people to sit through our weddings. Even the most ardent of homophobes had to hand us that. We were the ones who toiled behind the scenes while straight people got married: the photographers and bakers and florists, working like Negro porters settling spoiled passengers into the whites-only section of the train.

For an American, though, Australia seems pretty familiar: same wide streets, same office towers. It's Canada in a thong, or that's the initial impression.

A child came to Santa this morning and his mother said, "All right, Jason. Tell Santa what you want. Tell him what you want." Jason said, "I … want … Prokton and … Gamble to … stop animal testing." The mother said, "Proctor, Jason, that's Proctor and Gamble. And what do they do to animals? Do they torture animals, Jason? Is that what they do?" Jason said, Yes, they torture. He was probably six years old.