There is a set of balances and rhythms to a novel that we can't experience in real life. So I think there is a sense in which fiction can rescue history from confusion.

I think my work is influenced by the fact that we're living in dangerous times. If I could put it in a sentence, in fact, my work is about just that: living in dangerous times.

The smoke alarm went off in the hallway upstairs, either to let us know the battery had just died or because the house was on fire.

You have to break through the structure of your own stonework habit just to make yourself listen.

Somehow pictures always lead to people as masses. Books belong to individuals.

The modern meaning of life's end-when does it end? How does it end? How should it end? What is the value of life? How do we measure it?

Longing on a large scale makes history.