I felt the tributaries of his veins, wished to enter into his bloodstream, travel there, dissolved and bodiless, to take refuge in the thick walled chambers of his heart.

I work late at night. I'm awake and nobody bothers me. It's quiet and things come and talk to me in the silence.

I gave you justice, it said, as I was taught it. And I gave you mercy , too, so far as I could. While I could not spare you pain and humiliation, I make you a gift of my own pains and humiliations, that yours might be easier to bear.

The most irritating thing about cliches, I decided, was how frequently they were true.

Character, I think, is the single most important thing in fiction. You might read a book once for its interesting plot—but not twice.

He gave you to me," she said, so low I could hardly hear her. "Now I have to give you back to him, Mama.

Time does not really exist for mothers, with regard to their children. It does not matter greatly how old the child is-in the blink of an eye, a mother can see the child again as they were when they were born, when they learned how to walk, as they were at any age-at any time, even when the child is fully grown or a parent themselves.