Weariness, sometimes more than anything else, can bring an end to war.

We are all shaped by where we grow up, though that shaping takes different forms. I dont think theres any doubt that coming of age in Winnipeg both opened my eyes and made me hungry - if I can subvert all claims to be a real writer by mixing metaphors like that.

Writing is never, ever easy but I wake up every morning grateful for the gift of being able to do this.

It is always difficult, even with the best will in the world, to look back a long way and see anything resembling the truth.

There are kinds of action, for good or ill, that lie so far outside the boundaries of normal behavior that they force us, in acknowledging that they have occurred, to restructure our own understanding of reality. We have to make room for them.

One man sees a riselka: his life forks there. Two men see a riselka: one of them shall die. Three men see a riselka: one is blessed, one forks, one shall die.

Why did becoming accustomed to something have to render its pleasures stale.