You want in all cases for the story to get through the writing.

Speculation can be more gentle, can take its time, when it is not driven by desire.

Now i no longer believe that people's secrets are defined and communicable, or their feelings full-blown and easy to recognize.

I never have a problem with finding material. I wait for it to turn up, and it always turns up. It’s dealing with the material I’m inundated with that poses the problem.

There is a limit to the amount of misery and disarray you will put up with, for love, just as there is a limit to the amount of mess you can stand around a house. You can't know the limit beforehand, but you will know when you've reached it. I believe this.

This is the way you look at the poorest details of the world resurfaced, after you've been driving for a long time -- you feel their singleness and precise location and the forlorn coincidence of you being there to see them.

The skin of everyday appearances stretched over such shamelessness, such consuming explosions of lust.