Nine-tenths of human law is about possession.

Pure and unblemished souls must taste very bland, with an aftertaste of bitterness.

To be hopeful, to embrace one possibility after another that is surely the basic instinct - crying out: High tide! Time to move out into the glorious debris. Time to take this life for what it is!

Wherever I am, let me never forget to distinguish want from need

I write every moment that is humanly possible. I write every day and every night. The only discipline I lack is the discipline is to quit.

What a writer can do, what a fiction writer or a poet or an essay writer can do is re-engage people with their own humanity.

Ah, the mysterious croak. Here today, gone tomorrow. It's the best reason I can think of to throw open the blinds and risk belief. Right now, this minute, time to move out into the grief and glory. High tide.