We are most alive when we're in love.

Writing and rewriting are a constant search for what it is one is saying.

From infancy on, we are all spies; the shame is not this but that the secrets to be discovered are so paltry and few.

The world keeps ending but new people too dumb to know it keep showing up as if the fun's just started.

Life is like an overlong drama through which we sit being nagged by the vague memories of having read the reviews.

Figure out where you're going before you go there: he was told that a long time ago.

Museums and bookstores should feel, I think, like vacant lots - places where the demands on us are our own demands, where the spirit can find exercise in unsupervised play.