At the time of writing, I don't write for my friends or myself either; I write for it, for the pleasure of it.

At the time of writing, I don't write for my friends or myself either; I write for it, for the pleasure of it.

For the night was not impartial. No, the night loved some more than others, served some more than others.

People are mostly layers of violence and tenderness wrapped like bulbs, and it is difficult to say what makes them onions or hyacinths.

The mystery in how little we know of other people is no greater than the mystery of how much, Laurel thought.

Look for where the sky is brightest along the horizon. That reflects the nearest river. Strike out for a river and you will find habitation.

There's still a strange moment with every book when I move from the position of writer to the position of reader and I suddenly see my words with the eyes of the cold public. It gives me a terrible sense of exposure, as if I'd gotten sunburned.