I know you'll think this is crazy, but all I want to do is hold you, and I think that if you'll let me do that just for a few seconds, I can walk away, and never speak to you again.

At one level you're condemned to the voice you have. But within those confines, you have a certain amount of freedom to range among your possible voices.

He didn't like very many people any more, or very many things either. He preferred not to be this way, but there it was, he was like that. His cynicism, a veteran's cynicism, was a thing that disturbed him all the time.

I have relaxed into my persona as an author, although I used to fight that.

What some people interpret as brooding melancholy is serenity. I don't feel required to grasp all the time.

It's a brooding melancholy that haunts me.

I'm not an urban person.