He had only to touch me to turn my tears into sighs and my anger to desire. How accomodating love is; it forgives everything.

The longer I live, the more uninformed I feel. Only the young have an explanation for everything.

More and more books are published every year. If people were not reading them, they wouldn't be published. We are in a different moment. We are now reading electronic books or whatever else, but people are still reading, and people still need stories.

Be careful what you ask of Heaven; it might be granted.

January 8 has been a lucky day for me. I have started all my books on that day, and all of them have been well received by the readers. I write eight to ten hours a day until I have a first draft, then I can relax a little. I am very disciplined. I write in silence and solitude. I light a candle to call inspiration and the muses, and I surround myself with pictures of the people I love, dead and alive.

People come from internally, from other places in the United States, but also displaced people from other parts of the world. They come here. If you walk in the streets of San Francisco, you hear all the languages. You smell all the foods. You listen to the music from everywhere. There's great diversity.

After a few months without writing, months I've lived turned outward... I fear going deaf, not being able to hear the silence.