Falsehood is a critical element in fiction. Part of the thrill of being told a story is the chance of being hoodwinked. . .The telling of lies is a sort of sleight of hand that displays our deepest feelings about life.

Fiction is art and art is the triumph over chaos… to celebrate a world that lies spread out around us like a bewildering and stupendous dream.

Admite the world. Relish the love of a gentle woman. Trust in the lord.

I do not understand the capricious lewdness of the sleeping mind.

The irony of Christmas is always upon the poor in heart; the mystery of the solstice is always upon the rest of us.

It is not, as somebody once wrote, the smell of corn bread that calls us back from death; it is the lights and signs of love and friendship.

The need to write comes from the need to make sense of one's life and discover one's usefulness.