He didn't know whether we created God in our own image or whether God created us without quite knowing what he was doing. He believed that God, or whatever brought us here, lives in each of our deeds, in each of our words, and manifests himself in all those things that show us to be more than mere figures of clay.

In small towns, news travels at the speed of boredom.

Time goes faster the more hollow it is. Lives with no meaning go straight past you, like trains that don’t stop at your station.

One is never wholly conscious of the greed hidden in one's heart until one hears the sweet sound of silver.

Where he had failed, I would triumph. Where he had lost his way, I would find the path out of the labyrinth.

I'm interested in everything. I don't see why Borges can't work along with Neil Gaiman, or Stephen King can't be mixed with Balzac. It's just storytelling; it's different ways of using codes and images and words and sounds.

There are people you remember and people you dream of.