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

People are good or half good or a quarter good, and it changes all the time- but even on the best day nobody's perfect.

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.

There are moments we return to, now and always. Family is like water - it has a memory of what it once filled, always trying to get back to the original stream.

If you have a structure beforehand, you're sort of stuffing your story into a pre-assembled box. You don't want that to happen. What you want in your writing is to have a sort of wildness that occurs. And then, out of the wildness, a structure emerges.

Cynicism is easy. An optimist is a braver cynic.

...it was necessary to love silence, but before you could love silence you had to have noise.