People don't save other people. People save themselves.

Their desire was silent yet magnificent, like a thousand daisies attuning their faces toward the path of the sun.

I spend most of every day writing. I like to write every day if I can. I don't start extremely early.

He had the feeling that there was something physically behind his eyes, blocking the light.

Where else would she feel more comfortable than in this subterranean realm where people wrote down what they couldn't say, where they gave voice to their most shameful longings and knowledge?

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

He knew a lot about his grandparents - and perhaps he feels he's been endowed with abilities to go into people's heads who are long dead - but, to a certain extent, he's making it up.