Hope does not necessarily have to take an object.

Who wanted to creep along in comfort when there was one chance in a thousand of flying?

I work continuously within the shadow of failure. For every novel that makes it to my publisher's desk, there are at least five or six that died on the way. And even with the ones I do finish, I think of all the ways they might have been better.

One is taught by experience to put a premium on those few people who can appreciate you for what you are.

What did a few ripples in the flesh matter when, all too soon, now or later, that flesh would be making its return journey to dust?

The characters that I create are parts of myself and I send them on little missions to find out what I don’t know yet.

During the act of writing I have told myself something that I didn't know I knew.