He remained heartbroken, which meant one of two things: either his love was pure and true and earthshakingly significant; or he was addicted to feeling forlorn, he liked being heartbroken.

We listened to them, but it was clear they'd received too much therapy to know the truth.

On their best days, writers all over the world are winning Pulitzers, all alone in their studios, with no one watching.

Novelists are always resisting autobiographical readings of their work, because they know how false those can be.

Chunks of his life fell away, so that while we were moving ahead in time, he was moving back.

There is a small window of opportunity for freckled girls to tan.

You can tell when something's not moving forward anymore. When the doubts you have about it don't go away.