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.

If there is such a thing as sin in this world, I think it must be shutting oneself up against hope.

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.

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 more you respect and focus on the singular and the strange, the more you become aware of the universal and infinite.

I'm always aware that I risk being taken for a neurasthenic prima donna when I explain to someone who wants 'just a little' of my time that five minutes of the wrong kind of distraction can ruin a working day.

Dreams say what they mean, but they don't say it in daytime language.