All I do is keep on running in my own cozy, homemade void, my own nostalgic silence. And this is a pretty wonderful thing. No matter what anybody else says.

The body is not the only target of rape. Violence does not always take a visible form, and not all wounds gush blood.

If writing novels is like planting a forest, then writing short stories is more like planting a garden.

When I wake up, my pillow’s cold and damp with tears. But tears for what? I have no idea.

Beyond the window, some kind of small, black thing shot across the sky. A bird, possibly. Or it might have been someone's soul being blown to the far side of the world.

two people can sleep in the same bed and still be alone when they close their eyes

Writing a long novel is like survival training. Physical strength is as necessary as artistic sensitivity.