I do not understand how on earth you can become a writer without seeing the world.

You can have more than one home. You can carry your roots with you, and decide where they grow.

We used to send whole flocks of birds shooting out of our mouths and never managed to grab them by their wings.

I can still remember the miraculous feeling of writing a sentence, then more sentences, telling a story. The first thing I wrote was a one-page summary of Robinson Crusoe and I am so sorry I do not have it any more; it was at that moment I became an author.

Certainly, I know what it's like to be obsessed. I haven't always been there for my children. They could reach me, but I wasn't always there. But, you know, that's not necessarily anything to do with being a writer. I mean, a taxi driver could have the same problem... Maybe.

One of the agonies of being an author is to know when to stop writing.

It was a clear, starry night, dead calm. Whenever I see a sky like that, I wish I could write music