I keep waiting for things to get back down to whelming, but they stay at overwhelming.

I am haunted by the ghost of my father, I think that should allow me to quote Hamlet as much as I please.

Marco knows he does not have the time to push her away, so he pulls her close, burying his face in her hair, his bowler hat torn from his head by the wind...."Trust me," Celia whispers in his ear, and he stops fighting it, forgetting everything but her.

The circus arrives without warning. No announcements precede it. It is simply there, when yesterday it was not.

Where do you get your ideas? people ask. Sometimes they’re at the bottoms of cups of tea. Sometimes they’re lurking in my shower. Sometimes they’re waiting patiently in glass cases in museums.

So it’s really best to keep your secrets when you have them, for their own good, as well as yours.

The past stays on you the way powdered sugar stays on your fingers. Some people can get rid of it but it’s still there, the events and things that pushed you to where you are now.