From the beginning [of the Lincoln in the Bardo], I actually had it in mind not to write a novel. I'd kind of gotten past that point where I felt bad for never having written a novel, even to where I felt really good about it, like I was a real purist.

According to me, your life is going to be a gradual process of becoming kinder and more loving. Hurry up. Speed it along. Start right now.

My heart goes out to him. Sort of. Because empathy depends on how you've spent your day.

I have finally realized that, you know, it's not a given that my lifespan will accommodate my writing aspirations.

We all think we know what happens after death. But maybe it's going to be not only weird but also dorky and comic and inconsistent.

Even when the faith goes away, there's that space where you crave something bigger than yourself. For me, that's kind of where art came in, after that.

I feel that there is nothing that can happen to a person that is banal. Everything that happens to us is interesting.