All his life he would hold this moment as exemplary of what love was. It was not wanting anything more, nor was it expecting people to exceed what they had just accomplished; it was simply feeling so complete.

She felt detached from her family, and thought it strange how they had lavished so much attention on her, as a child, and then at some appointed, prearranged time they seemed to stop the flow of affection and being the expectations - as if, for a brief phrase, you were expected to absorb love (and get enough), and then, for a much longer and more serious phase, you were expected to fulfill certain obligations.

I suppose I'm proudest of my novels for what's imagined in them. I think the world of my imagination is a richer and more interesting place than my personal biography.

No one could have fathomed what a life he'd led, for it was chiefly a life lived in his mind.

It is your responsibility to find fault with me, it is mine to hear you out. But don't expect me to change.

You think you have a memory; but it has you!

If you feel strongly about people having abortions, don't have one.