It was like autumn, looking at her. it was like driving up north to see the colors.

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

When you stood between somebody you loved and death, it was hard to be awake and it was hard to sleep.

Her eyes watered and she was a foot taller than any of her sisters, mostly because of the length of her neck which would one day hang from the end of a rope

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

Being a writer is a solitary life. So the little part of me that's an actor still enjoys the theatrical part of reading and doing the voices and telling the story.

I hadn't gotten old enough yet to realize that living sends a person not into the future but back into the past, to childhood and before birth, finally, to commune with the dead. You get older, you puff on the stairs, you enter the body of your father. From there it's only a quick jump to your grandparents, and then before you know it you're time traveling. In this life we grow backwards.