I wasn't good company, that was true, and people avoided me, but that was all right. I was too busy dreaming.

My mother's blood that would last forever after. The blood of my brother, my grandfather, my father.

What else is there to write about than love and loss?

I must keep my head and not give in to desire, for desire is what causes women to drown.

I feel as if when you love a book it becomes a part of you whether you have it on your shelves or not.

What did you see?' he asked then. Nothing,' I told him. 'Because nothing is what you wanted me to see, though the man on the table might disagree.

I don't think I make much of a distinction between the 'real' and the 'fantastic.' They both seem to be threads in the same cloth as far as I'm concerned.