That is the joy of reading fiction: when all is said and done, the novel belongs to the reader and his or her imagination.

Anyway, the sort of love that will not wait is probably best to pass by

One of my favorites is "Time and Again" by Jack Finney. It takes place in Manhattan and goes back and forth between 1882 and the 1950s. It's really a cult book.

You can try to take sorrow and make it into something enduring, meaningful and beautiful. I always feel guilty that this is my job, that I get to do this

I also like the whole idea of fairy tales and folk tales being a woman's domain, considered a lesser domain at the time they were told.

Love ambushed you, it lay in wait, dormant for days or years. It was the red thread, the peach stone, the kiss, the forgiveness. It came after you, it escaped you, it was invisible, it was everything.

Feel lucky for what you have when you have it. Isn't that the point? Happily ever after doesn't mean happy forever.