I often recall these words when I am writing, and I think to myself, “It’s true. There aren’t any new words. Our job is to give new meanings and special overtones to absolutely ordinary words.” I find the thought reassuring. It means that vast, unknown stretches still lie before us, fertile territories just waiting for us to cultivate them.

Sometimes we don't need words. Rather, it's words that need us.

I didn't feel like I was in my own body; my body was just a lonely, temporary container I happened to be borrowing.

Stories lie deep in our souls. Stories lie so deep at the bottom of our hearts that they can bring people together on the deepest level. When I write a novel, I go into such depths.

I'd be smiling and chatting away, and my mind would be floating around somewhere else, like a balloon with a broken string.

Memory is like fiction; or else it's fiction that's like memory.

Some people can work their butts off and never get what they're aiming for while others can get it without any effort at all.