There are things that can't be said, because it's hard to have to know them.

We're well past the end of the century when time, for the first time, curved, bent, slipped, flash forwarded, and flashed back yet still kept rolling along. We know it all now, with our thoughts traveling at the speed of a tweet, our 140 characters in search of a paragraph. We're post-history. We're post-mystery.

A good argument, like a good dialogue, is always a proof of life, but I'd much rather go and read a book.

Happy is what you realize you are a fraction of a second before it's too late.

All we need to do, reader or writer, from first line to final page, is be as open as a book, and be alive to the life in language - on all its levels.

remember you must live. remember you most love. remainder you mist leaf.

Short stories consume you faster. They're connected to brevity. With the short story, you are up against mortality. I know how tough they are as a form, but they're also a total joy.