Time has a funny way of collapsing when you go back to a place you once loved. You find yourself thinking, I was kissed in that building, I climbed up that tree.

Love was action. It came to you. It was not a choice.

Maybe that was the definition of life everlasting: the belief that the next generation would carry your work forward.

It's easier to love a woman when you can't understand a word she's saying.

I know that there are people out there who believe we should get rid of all guns.

I always feel it is a shortcoming of mine as a reader and as a writer that I frankly need to like somebody.

If you want to write and can't figure out how to do it, try this: Pick an amount of time to sit at your desk every day. Start with twenty minutes, say, and work up as quickly as possible to as much time as you can spare. Do you really want to write? Sit for two hours a day.