I attempted briefly to consecrate myself in the public library, believing every crack in my soul could be chinked with a book.

I did it to win love, and to prove myself capable. Not to move mountains. In my opinions, mountains don't move. They only look changed when you look down on them from great height.

I have my own sheep and I literally sheer the sheep and knot sweaters for friends and family from scratch.

Something in me was always watching life from the outside, permanently obsessed with the notion of belonging vs. not-belonging [to a group]. It did not make for a happy childhood, but it was excellent training for a writer.

No kind of bomb ever built will extinguish hatred.

Sometimes I prayed for Baby Jesus to make me good, but Baby Jesus didn't.

If someone does learn about the world from reading a novel of mine, that makes me very happy. It's probably not what brings me into the novel in the first place - I usually am pulled in by some big question about the world and human nature that I'm not going to resolve in the course of the novel. But I'm very devoted to getting my facts straight.