I have always argued, in a good novel, interesting things happen to interesting people.

We must be what we are, or we become our enemies.

When I was 18 years old, in a more innocent time, my first backpacking trip through Europe, I sneaked into the Temple of Saturn in the Roman Forum after nightfall and spent several hours in there avoiding the guards patrolling.

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.

I have always argued, in a good novel, interesting things happen to interesting people.

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

Irritation for some men was their response to strain.