To create a past that seemed authentic but would be a fiction, you need an invented language.

Our broken society is not born out of the triumph of the individual, but out of his effacement. He vanishes, she vanishes, ask them who they are and they will offer you a wallet or a child.

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

Yes, the past is another country, but one that we can visit, and once there we can bring back the things we need.

I like the way the morning can be stormy and the afternoon clear and sparkly as a jewel in the water. Put your hand in the water to reach for a sea urchin or a sea shell, and the thing desired never quite lies where you had lined it up to be. The same is true of love. In prospect or contemplation, love is where it seems to be. Reach in to lift it out and your hand misses

Yes, the stories are dangerous, she was right. A book is a magic carpet that flies you off elsewhere. A book is a door. You open it. You step through. Do you come back?

I have a head for heights it's true, but no stomach for the depths. Strange then to have plumbed so many.