My house is modern, but I like my writing room to be old fashioned. I write on a little wooden secretary desk.

We recived our colouring from the Norsemen,hairy savages who hacked their gods to pieces and hung the flesh from trees.We are the ones who sacked Rome.Fear only feeble old age and death in bed.Don't forget who you are.

I thought how tenuous the links were between mother and children between friends family things you think are eternal. Everything could be lost more easily than anyone could imagine.

I thought clay must feel happy in the good potter's hand.

Let me tell you a few things about regret...There is no end to it. You cannot find the beginning of the chain that brought us from there to here. Should you regret the whole chain, and the air in between, or each link separately as if you could uncouple them? Do you regret the beginning which ended so badly, or just the ending itself?

And if there is no god? You act as if there is, and it's the same thing.

Whenever she thought she could not feel more alone, the universe peeled back another layer of darkness.