Memories do not always soften with time; some grow edges like knives.

Every betrayal contains a perfect moment, a coin stamped heads or tails with salvation on the other side.

It is completely usual for me to get up in the morning, take a look around, and laugh out loud.

I grew up aware of all the people I depended on and who depended on me.

I know I'm a rare person, a trained scientist who writes fiction, because so few contemporary novelists engage with science.

It feels strange to me to be living in a box, hiding from the steadying influence of the moon; wearing the hide of a cow, which is supposed to be dyed to match God-knows-what, on my feet; making promises over the telephone about things I will do at a precise hour next year.

you can't really know the person standing before you, because always there is some missing piece