I save the best of myself for novels, and I believe it shows

I've always thought a hotel ought to offer optional small animals. I mean a cat to sleep on your bed at night, or a dog of some kind to act pleased when you come in. You ever notice how a hotel room feels so lifeless?

I hated childhood, and spent it sitting behind a book waiting for adulthood to arrive.

...it's closeness that does you in. Never get too close to people, son.

Reading any piece of writing aloud is an acid test, particularly when it comes to dialogue. There were writers I'd always admired who suddenly rang false when I spoke their words in our living room.

It’s like the grief has been covered over with some kind of blanket. It’s still there, but the sharpest edges are .. muffled, sort of. Then, ever now and then, I lift the corner of the blanket just to check, and .. whoa! Like a knife! I’m not sure that will ever change.

There is no true life. Your true life is the one you end up with, whatever it may be. You just do the best you can with what you've got.