He was wondering if there was some cryptic, cultish mark on his door that told all the crazy people he'd have trouble saying no.

I read so I can live more than one life in more than one place.

People imagine that missing a loved one works kind of like missing cigarettes,' he said. 'The first day is really hard but the next day is less hard and so forth, easier and easier the longer you go on. But instead it's like missing water. Every day, you notice the person's absence more.

I write because I want to have more than one life.

Now peculiar scraps of knowledge were stuck to him like lint from all his jobs.

He wished he had inhabited more of his life, used it better, filled it fuller.

The one ironclad rule is that I have to try. I have to walk into my writing room and pick up my pen every weekday morning