I prefer old books and find them more relevant. I dislike new books. It's like drinking wine that's not ready.

The past is still visible. The buildings haven't changed, the layout of the streets hasn't changed. So memory is very available to me as I walk around.

Apparently Brooklyn needn't always push itself to be something else, something conscious and anxious, something pointed toward Manhattan.... Brooklyn might sometimes also be pleased, as here on Flatbush, to be its grubby, enduring self.

It's now expected of me that I will defy expectation, so I really generally seem to be free to write what I want.

My heart and the elevator, a plummet inside a plummet.

I had an all-Fear of Music iPod, just versions of the 11 songs from the record. No other songs allowed.

Fantastic writing in English is kind of disreputable, but fantastic writing in translation is the summit.