The time has to be right and the heart willing.

Don't waste your time on life.

If love were endless, if it were on tap, it wouldn't hit us the way it does. And we certainly wouldn't write about it.

Paris was a museum displaying exactly itself.

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

There's a kind of acting that goes on in my head when I'm writing a character where I put myself in their place.

In the end, the tortures tearing the Lisbon girls pointed to a simple reasoned refusal to accept the world as it was handed down to them, so full of flaws.