I wonder why we always deny love. I remember in middle school, if you were accused of the crime of loving, you screamed denials constantly and stopped ever even looking at the boy you were accused of liking. The boys could destroy each other by yodeling, "An-drew lo-oves Jen-nie," and both Andrew and Jennie would flinch and blush. Love is this great thing that most songs and books and poems and lives are all about. So the minute we actually think there might be love around, we start laughing and pretending and hiding from it.

People nearly always believe, and are willing to back it up with weapons and cruelty, that their religion and way of life is better than the other person's

I believe my voice is pretty much the same. I've written 75 books, so I'm better at it now than I was earlier in my career

I'm one of the lucky writers: plots come easily to me

My favorite book is always the one I'm working on at the moment

People think they own time. They have watches and clocks and digital pulses. But they are wrong. Time owns them.

I wrote eight full-length adult novels in my twenties. None of them were published