I felt in him what women feel in men, something so tender, swollen, tyrannical, absurd; I would never take the consequences of interfering with it.

I would have a flick of fear, as in a dream when you find yourself in the wrong building or have forgotten the time for the exam and understand that this is only the tip of some shadowy cataclysm or lifelong mistake.

Because if she let go of her grief even for a minute it would only hit her harder when she bumped into it again.

I want my stories to move people ... to feel some kind of reward from the writing.

Memory is the way we keep telling ourselves our stories - and telling other people a somewhat different version of our stories.

I want the reader to feel something is astonishing. Not the 'what happens,' but the way everything happens. These long short story fictions do that best, for me.

Few people, very few, have a treasure, and if you do you must hang onto it. You must not let yourself be waylaid, and have it taken from you.