We stumble on, thinks Jaslyn, bring a little noise into the silence, find in others the ongoing of ourselves. It is almost enough.

She likes the people with the endurance to tolerate the drudge, the ones who know that pain is a requirement, not a curse.

Every man with his own peculiar vice. His will hardly rock heaven or hell.

I think it is our job, as writers, to be epic. Epic and tiny at the same time. If you're going to be a fiction writer, why not take on something that means something. In doing this, you must understand that within that epic structure it is the tiny story that is possibly more important.

Let it be. Silly song, really. You let it be, it returns. There's the truth. You let it be, it drags you to the ground. You let it be, it crawls up your walls.

Even if you're going to die, you might as well die pretty.

Literature can remind us that not all life is already written down: there are still so many stories to be told.