I wanted to eat her pain, take it into me and make it my own.

In this life we love who we love. There were some stories in which facts were very nearly irrelevant.

People always say, "Can writing be taught?" I always think, I can teach you how to write a better sentence, how to do dialogue, how to do character, but I can't teach you how to be a decent person, and I can't teach you how to have something to say.

People gave me such a bad time about wanting a baby. I didn't want a baby, and I still don't. I wanted a dog.

I should figure out why I'm so much more interested in doing something that I think is really hard. But, somehow, the thing that is hard for me feels more noble.

Home, bed, sleep, mother--who knew more beautiful words than these?

No matter how much we love a book, the experience of reading it isn't complete until we can give it to someone who will love it as much as we do