A sentence boiled in her, but she could not yet see it clearly.

Adolescence-is it the first time in life we discover that we have something terrible to hide from those who love us?

The history of a city was like the history of a family—there is closeness and even affection, but death eventually separates everyone from each other. It is only the vividness of memory that keeps the dead alive forever; a writer’s job is to imagine everything so personally that the fiction is as vivid as our personal memories.

YOU LET ME DROWN!” Owen said. “YOU DIDN’T DO ANYTHING! YOU JUST WATCHED ME DROWN! I’M ALREADY DEAD!” he told us. “REMEMBER THAT: YOU LET ME DIE.

But who can distinguish between falling in love and imagining falling in love? Even genuinely falling in love is an act of the imagination.

The way you define yourself as a writer is that you write every time you have a free minute. If you didn't behave that way you would never do anything.

You can give yourself a headache trying to decipher the tattoos on a naked man who’s leaping up and down on a bed.