I don't think there was a particular book that made me want to write. They all did. I always wanted to write.

He put the blinker on, pulled out onto the avenue. "Well, that was nice," she said, sitting back. They had fun together these days, they really did. It was as if marriage had been a long, complicatd meal, and now there was this lovely dessert.

Bullies are just frightened people.

I do write by hand. I just think - I don't know, it's a physical thing for me. It's a bodily thing. It literally has to earn its way through my hand.

I love theater. I love sitting in an audience and having the actors right there, playing out what it means to be a human being.

Or maybe, he thought, returning to the boxes, it was part of being Catholic--you were made to feel guilty about everything

Had they known at these moments to be quietly joyful? Most likely not. People mostly did not know enough when they were living life that they were living it.