our job was merely to create the noise that seemed to fascinate them.

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

A seven-year-old girl can take only so many walks with her grandfather.

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

They're just memories now. Time to write them off.

And in some of the houses, people were getting old and sick and were dying, leaving others to grieve. It was happening all the time, unnoticed, and it was the thing that really mattered. What really mattered in life, what gave it weight, was death.

There are some books that reached through the noise of life to grab you by the collar and speak only of the truest things.