But most important of all, she explained that it was all right to say 'No. I disagree.' that was a gift. I understood it was power. The power to think my own thoughts. The power to believe in myself.

No one knows you like a person with whom you've shared a childhood. No one will ever understand you in quite the same way.

I could hardly get a boy to look at me. All right, they'd look, they'd even take me out, but no one asked for a second date. I was too nasty, a real wise guy, and all the boys could tell what my rotten disposition was. Deep down, I wanted a commitment with a capital C. To get anywhere with me, a boy would have to sign his undying loyalty with his own blood.

Ironically, now that my children are older and gone quite a bit, I find it harder to work when they're not around. Too much free time!

Unrequited love is so boring. Weeping under a blue-black sky is for suckers or maniacs.

I'm much faster now. When you only have a certain amount of time to write, after a while you learn to use your time well or you stop writing

Hawthorne has given us a tradition that some people refer to as Yankee Magic Realism, and I do think there is a certain quality to the landscape that definitely leads into the dark woods.