Men made wagers with their judgment, their allegiances, their resources.

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.

Words were power, words tried to change you, to shape bridges of longing that no one could ever really cross.

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

How we remember changes how we have lived. Time runs both ways. We make stories of our lives.

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.