We yearn for tomorrow and the progress that it represents. But yesterday was once tomorrow, and where was progress in it? Or we yearn for yesterday, for what was or what might have been. But as we are yearning, the present is becoming the past, so the past is nothing but our yearning for second chances.

No, if there's any ultimate redemption, it would be because I passed though your life without scarring you, and did not diminish who you are.

Each book is a mind alive, a life revealed, a world awaiting exploration, but living people are all those things, as well—and more, because their stories haven’t yet been completely told.

Loyal companions are an unequaled grace, stanching fear before it bleeds you numb, a reliable antidote for creeping despair.

If you want to publish two books a year under your own name and your publisher doesn't, maybe you need a different publisher.

I admit to having an imagination feverish enough to melt good judgment.

Not all or even most suffering is at the hands of fate; it befalls us at our invitation.