It is interesting ... how weapons reflect the soul of the maker.

We surrounded ourselves with smoke and loud noise. That's the way we chose to live. I'm prepared to defend it.

He speaks in your voice, American, and there's a shine in his eye that's halfway hopeful.

I don't know what I think about certain subjects, even today, until I sit down and try to write about them.

There are times when you want to stop working at faith and just be washed in a blowing wind that tells you everything.

There were moments when she wasn't talking so much as fading into time, dropping back into some funnelled stretch of recent past.

There is a balance, a kind of standoff between the time continuum and the human entity, our frail bundle of soma and psyche. We eventually succumb to time, it's true, but time depends on us. We carry it in our muscles and genes, pass it on to the next set of time-factoring creatures, our brown-eyed daughters and jug-eared sons, or how would the world keep going. Never mind the time theorists, the cesium devices that measure the life and death of the smallest silvery trillionth of a second.... We were the only crucial clocks, our minds and bodies, way stations for the distribution of time.