I don't know if I would do sequels. I almost feel like when I'm done with them, they're going to have to find their own way.

It's unimaginable to me that I wouldn't write, but it's very imaginable that I won't write for a little while.

That sinuous southern life, that oblique and slow and complicated old beauty, that warm thick air and blood warm sea, that place of mists and languor and fragrant richness.

I felt tears sting into my eyes, and took a deep swallow of the first champagne I had ever tasted, remembering that I had read somewhere that the monk who invented it said, on first tasting it, 'It is like drinking stars'.

Didn't I say I'd always be your same stars? If you get to missing me, just look up.

Perhaps the most important thing we can ever do in our lives is find a way to keep the wild-both the wild inside and the wild outside us-and tap into it.

Anger is its own excuse and its own reward.