What would it have meant to be happy? What would it have meant if things had been bright, clear, good between us?

Don't you think it's strange that life, described as so rich and full, a camel-trail of adventure, should shrink to this coin-sized world? A head on one side, a story on the other. Someone you loved and what happened. That's all there is when you dig in your pockets. The most significant thing is someone else's face. What else is embossed on your hands but her?

Children, I suppose, are always unfinished business: they begin as part of your own body, and continue as separate as another continent.

What can i tell you about the choices we make? Fate reads like the polar opposite of decision, and so much of life reads like fate.

I have a list of titles that I leave at the [library] desk, because they are bound to be written some day, and it's best to be ahead of the queue.

I don't write for any group. I write to bring about a change in consciousness.

As your lover describes you, so you are.